After a first week in Paris, I'm going to my hometown Lyon for a week to see my family at long last.
Here it's freezing cold and I think we have minus something now. There it will be colder but I can't wait for the warmth of my mother's and grand-mother's embrace.
In Paris I met all my different groups of friends and really have no clue as to how or when I'll ever be able to feet in anymore...
There's a slight bareer between us even though they don't provoque it, I believe i'm the source of this barrier...
How can i tell my experience with the Swami? How will I feel facing my mother when I realize she's but the shadow of the woman I idealized...
I feel bloomy tonight though my evening was excellent and my friends gave us an amazing live concert in a bar.
All I see in the city of lights that once made me shiver and thrill are lost creatures running after a future they'll never have, sticking to the latest trend as if to reassure themselves, know they belong to something bigger... economy? or has Couture become that sacred that it replaces the faith in higher self? I do not know and maybe, what strikes me the most, i do not care.
Tears come and go, soon replaced by a tender smile of remembrence of Palolem, of Hampi, of the gutters of Mumbay or the ennafable beauty of the Himalayas. I speak words I do not think, I give large smiles that come from a part of me I no longer know while inside my head I call your names, I call for the Swami's tender presence and wise advice. I caress the furniture in my flat as to recover the link we once shared or feel that time has gone by. Don't turn back... everything will be there...
"Forget everything about the past, forget everything about the future, just be here in the present moment of Yoga".
I'll soon know when I face my family again after all this time, how I've changed, how she's set herself free of me also. And perhaps then I will feel whole again, home again, all again.