I have arrived at heathrow airport. The past few hours have been a pleasing flight and on my way from Frankfurt we glided sweetly over tiny pockets of clouds, strewn neatly across the sky like a hand made meadow. It was so vast that it seemed as though we were just stationary – the view was uniform for that great few mins, even though I was making many miles down below me. Oddly this appeared like an unchanging scenery in a moving vehicle.
As we were reaching I was fully absorbed into a book a dear friend gave on living with kundalini. I scribbled over the words and competed for space to write more. I have so much on this book to share and will write another long entry. I like to be by myself like this – the companion of the other one is within me even as I delight in the pleasures of this world, 20,000 ft above. Cheese and chai.
When we arrived I felt at home all of a sudden- this coming from me who kept England in the secret of my heart and talked about it with a sense of distance. I am always a foreigner here. But this is where my angel resides. And here it was in the cold and emptiness of the sun and flowers where I fell in love with a one over and over again. My disdain is a disguise, or perhaps sometimes a complaint by the rare ungrateful in me. In England I came to love and I owe it to this queen for growing me up. And to this king who pressed flowers for me, we owe no more. We are complete now.
So here I wait, this fateful return is not unfamiliar.