you can never go home again?

I have a writing deadline that I have to keep to.... two actually. This will be short.

Just got off the phone with my father. Among other things, he told me to stop looking west: 'Accept that the axis of your world has shifted. Accept that your future takes you away from here. Stop looking at England or Europe as places you are passing through. Keep your love for Colombia. Keep your life in New York. Keep those things, but know, know that your life will unfold from there.'

I doubt that I will ever have a particularly stationary life-- after so many travels I have a hard time staying in one place. Yet, I do need a base. When he spoke to me tonight, I had this sickening feeling that my father is right in his assessment.

For the first time, I think I understand what my informants tried to share: a deep sense of mourning not so much for the past, but for the future. Of course, we cannot predict where our futures take us. It isn't the certainty of any possibility (none exists), but the shift in vision, the tectonic movement of the soul, that rattles.

And so, I'm feeling just a little off-kilter at the moment. Just a little. But no time to dwell. Back to writing.

much love