That is about what we have missed while we were away, right?
O, y Feliz Dia de los Muertos.
Our break in blogging was for several reasons: 1. We didn't have a lot of time. And 2. We did not want to post anything mid-emotional crisis. Sometimes you need to take a step back from the constant contact.
It has been yet another wild season of change. We have taken some time to grieve and get our bearings. Each day seems to be moving faster than the last. Holidays and visits with old friends, finding somewhere to live, furniture and moving, job hunts and new beginnings... there are no words for the level of frustration, joy, exhaustion, sorrow, excitement, and disappointment all swirling together.
We are now living in Renton, WA. Yet another new place for our small tribe. Our apartment is nice, on the 4th floor with huge South facing windows. We have a construction site in the peripheral of one of the windows - which is like having a 24 hour television for our tinies. Who knew?
I am working as Community Outreach Coordinator for a small health studio in Renton. I partner with non-profits in order to raise funds and awareness about their causes. I teach yoga 2 or 3 times a week and Mark and I will be putting on a yoga workshop together in February. Mark is doing general contracting work and trying to create new vision for us. We have some amazing projects we are working on with a friend. Hopefully we will be able to share about sooner rather than later...
It is immensely difficult to not be in Mexico. Rory struggles to understand why people don't always say hello when they pass. He sometimes speaks Spanish to strangers and gets frustrated when they don't understand or don't respond. Jinora still prefers to be spoken to in Spanish and has a slight distrust of white people she doesn't know. Mark and I miss open markets, cheap produce, and our cobblestone streets.
It is a heartbreaking ache that resonates through my whole body. We long for our darling friends and community in Mexico. We miss our routine, our apartment, our parks, our walks, and so much more.
Our dream, our plan is gone. And now we must seek a new one.
Let's avoid the word "homecoming." Because that's not what it feels like. It's not that we don't love being near friends and family that we left when we went to Oaxaca, but "coming home" isn't exactly what we've done. The more places I live, and the number is climbing, the more I find "home" to be a misnomer. We are at home everywhere and nowhere.
We hope you will join us in this new adventure.
Whatever that looks like.