On my way hOMe...

On my way hOMe

Lucy dropped me at Heathrow International in the dark.

Cold rain was angrily spitting down in the icy, early, morning.

We laughed (as we had all week) and made jokes (as we had for years) the whole way to Terminal 3, where I kissed her cheek and did my best to summon words of gratitude and love through my hungover, still half asleep state, heaving my bags onto the trolly outside her car and getting more and more soaked by the minute.


Charlie, Lucy and I laughed hysterically last night as we nibbled on our favorite Japanese rice crackers and drank gin & tonics in an Angel/Islington Blues Bar. The ceiling was painted with wild, abstract, multicolored images that looked to be Goddesses floating above our table of Goddesses.. and a seemingly mismatched motley crew of brilliant musicians formed a band on stage inches from where we sat.
The wailing saxophone seemed to bounce off the walls of the tiny bar, as the ever understated bassist looked like he was daydreaming, not even aware that he was on a stage, walking the songs like a master leading his dog on a leash. Lucy would be a bassist if she was a Blues musician- just looking cool, understated, and casual but crucially important to everything.
Charlie would be the drums I think- the room goes a little empty without the clatter of tempo and occasional smash of a cymbal that makes everyone go "ahhh!"
The girls would say I was the lead guitarist- flashy in an awful american way, overstated, clearly taking the lead and going off on guitar solos while everyone else rolls their eyes and keeps the melody going. (they love me nonetheless.)

She, Charlie aI love our band of babes.

Lucy said that Jamie's real band had played here recently, she thought. She had been on a building site and didn't make it to his show in the end but had received a facebook invitation from my ex, who would soon be returning to try living in London once again.

How weird, I thought, that the world has continued to exist and evolve as I've been away.
(I know that sounds silly, but it is a strange thought to me somehow).

Earlier that afternoon Charlie and I drank white wine from a box next to her Christmas tree that had all red decorations- lights, ornaments and baubles all red, just like her new hair color.

Charlie (the youngest, smallest member of our tribe of gnar-shredding, adventure Goddesses) was suddenly such a grownup... Much more then I was.
We decided to go to Tesco's market and make lunch/dinner in her elegant and sophisticated flat.
I remembered being a grownup like this when I lived in London... Making insane money for the simplest job in central London, navigating the tubes and train lines like it was no thing to get home to my beautiful house with a yard and gazebo that echoed like a million soldiers marching on tin when the rain would bucket down out of the perpetually gray sky.
My flatmates and husband used to hate the loud noise they heard as a nuisance and I absolutely couldn't get enough of it. Who CARES if it drowns out Eastenders or the X Factor?! English TV is crap anyways... This cacophony... This symphony of nature meeting manmade civilization gave me goosebumps every time I sat inside our gazebo extension, snuggled under a warm duvet and closed my eyes.

Charlie's massive flatscreen played MTV music videos, by my request. I just couldn't bear the sound of Ant and Dec or any of the awful Christmas programs on. I've been without television for so long it's become like the mind dulling drone of a mosquito on my ear when it's playing in the background at a house. How are people so desensitized to it? Now THAT is a nuisance of a sound!

At Togat Nusa, out in the Mentawais, John E says that there are two things that will never come to the island - a clock and/or a TV.

I. Freaking. Love. This.

"What time your flight tomorrow morning?" Charlie shouted over the music at the Blues Bar last night.

"Nah- remember? Zan follows the sun. She doesn't do conventional time." Lucy chirped in.

I put my pointer finger in the air as though I was testing the wind direction and joked that spirit had informed my third eye that the tailwinds would lift me and begin to carry me towards San Francisco in approximately 8 hours.

A few short hours later Lucy was on the edge of my sofa bed nook in her living room, waking me up. I was out like a light, completely dead to the sound of my alarm binging and bonging away next to my head.
Thank god for the Londoner lifestyle that gets people up in the dark regardless of the amount of G&T's consumed the night before.

I was out of practice.

My schedule is more along the lines of going to sleep after the sun has set and dinner is happily digested- waking up at sunrise to the sweet hands of light that come in through my window/tent/open hut wall and envelop the sleepspace with radiant rays, suggesting that I rise and shine in reflection- then sitting in bed and gonging my Tibetan singing bowl- meditating - maybe practicing yoga or doing a pancha karma routine - and then leisurely having Ayurvedic tea and breakfast.

This "rest" for a few hours, yank yourself up in the dark and slam your body into gear as you brave the icy, wet air and charge it for the day routine doesn't work for this little sun-guided hippie anymore.

I really like my mornings these days.
This bleak, December travel morning, I feel like I backhanded time and punched myself in the face... Not so much lulled to life as I've grown accustomed to...
But in all honesty, it was worth it to get last night with my girls.

Spending time with my London soul sisters was overdue and made my heart so so happy. We can and do talk about everything so openly and honestly and just fully support one another in the coolest way.

We made plans for a 2013 snowboarding adventure to Austria and a 2014 trip to Japan... Which should work out well on my way to or back from southeast Asia or india where I plan to spend half the year every year... I love how these girlfriends are up for traveling and adventure like me. They both came out to California when I moved back from London in 2007. (Charlie even went to Hawaii with one of my guy friends that she met in Mammoth a few years back)...
Lucy is on her way to South America for a 9 month backpacking journey with her boyfriend/best-friend/soul-mate Colin. He is seriously a gem and makes me ache a little bit for a partnership like theirs... But of course it's not so feasible when you lead a gypsy life like I do.

Lucy is a pro at calling me out for being a hopeless romantic and sometimes an emotional retard. She confessed that she wasn't entirely convinced I was even on the flight from Delhi that she picked me up from.
"figured you fell in love and ditched us for a fantasy love affair."

Am I THAT transparent? Ha.

Six days that flew by in the UK.
Six days that I very nearly cancelled to stay in love in India. I'm so glad my buddy out in Rhishikesh tenderly pointed out to me that six extra days in India would still never be enough. I'd still be sad to leave and have to tear myself from the arms of joy and bliss and that it was better to just get a move on and not miss my London loves!

Life keeps going on... And on... And on... Like the never-ending trail of moving walkways in Heathrow Airport.
We only recognize their movement- only take note of their purpose- or that they even exist, when we are on them, getting catapulted through life- and through the terminal.

We have a choice to just stand still and let the constantly moving belt move us along, or we can walk... Charge it down to our next destination, like I choose to do.

San Fran ahoy.

Sending love from Terminal 3 and from everywhere.