Nothing Fits

I’ve been back for about two weeks now and this final post has been lingering in drafts on my notebook and laptop since arriving on US soil in Houston.
In the middle of my experience when all of the narratives of suffering I heard were overwhelming me the only thing I could think about was being back home. Now that I’m here surrounded by those who care for me, and I missed deeply, I feel out of place. Just as out of place as I felt when I was foreign. Something at home is not the same. The home of old friend, new friend, family, lover, stranger, self are all lacking. It’s like I was surprised by the sameness of it all because I didn’t expect for me to be different.
I hope this isn’t confused with me feeling some self-rietious superiority of consciousness because of my experience, it’s more like I have to learn my reality again and I didn’t expect to have to do that. And of course there was the initial excitement of being back; the joy of being welcomed and the “look what I brought you” of unpacking. Now that it is has all faded though inside there’s a constant flow of questioning and comparisons of then and now; differences taking center stage. Outside I can only give apathetic, or artificial to minimize hurt. Reconciling that there are multiple realities that exist and must be navigated left me feeling too heavy for my surroundings at the present moment.
So Nicaragua, and Ixchen more specifically, have provided for me a search for authenticity that I didn’t know wasn’t present in my endeavors until I was forced to compare myself with the genuine in the life of those that I met and got closer to this summer. I’m sure my transition of arriving isn’t over yet but right now my hope is that I don’t lose the insight I gained during the stages to come that take me further away from the point of arrival.

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