When I get home I shall write a book about this place... If I ever do get home. --Alice (in Wonderland)
Thanks to my hairdresser, I just downed a bunch of drops of passionflower vine -- not wine -- because it is supposed to be a natural remedy for quieting the brain. I was sitting there getting highlights today and we really had a lovely conversation about so many things, including passionflower. And since I am spending quite a pretty penny to be slightly more blonde, I might as well get all the advice I can while I sit through the tedious foils. I think I see a cheshire cat...
I have been gathering red rose petals of advice from many people of late, and all of it is quite reaffirming. Some of it is even unsolicited, like the woman today waiting for the 18 bus on Shattuck who just started rambling to me with no invitation, spoken or gestured, for a good 10 minutes. She told me stories of the 
way time is experienced by the tiniest of worms, whose life cycle is 24 hours, in comparison to human life-cycles. She was a strong 70-something year old who had a lot to get out. She advised me "don't go into academia," a thought I could only laugh to myself about. Ummm, it's a little late to turn back.
But I digress. In all seriousness, Alice, it is about getting home. In fact, I am really at home with myself of late. I am incredibly comfortable with who I am and what I want, and what kind of life I would like to build for myself. I am content with the decisions I have made in my life, and I am at peace with the place that I am in, despite the ongoing work I do everyday to articulate even more clearly to myself my own desires. Although they change slightly, I think I have mainly arrived to a place of great clarity, soundness of mind, and calmness of spirit. I know how to communicate openly with friends and loved ones in my life, and I know that it is okay when others don't agree with every word I say or every decision I make. I feel a lot, but I am not afraid of any of my feelings, whatever they are, because emotional range and depth are to me, an essential part of being human. I learn everyday, admit when I am wrong, believe in myself when I am right, say I love you, say I am sorry, say I am happy, say I am angry and I know that I deserve to expect the same of others in my life.
Everyone of us is on her or his own life journey, in her or his own rowboat, exploring "this place" and trying to "get home." I think we need to recognize, all of us, when we are doing too much rowing for others as well as when they could use a rest from their paddling. We also need to ask for help when we need a rest from our own rowing, and accept it when it is there. It is a precarious balance. People who can navigate the waves are the ones that impress me the most, not those who choose a safe harbor simply to avoid the spray. If you never got wet, what would be the point of living? There are dots of colored boats all around me in my ocean; and yet they are all so far away. But Alice is relentless in her pursuit of adventures in wonderland: ups, downs, and the sheer magic of trying to understand this place called life, rose by rose and card by card.
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