A week ago I woke to this view. After three weeks in India I welcomed coming home to schedule and loved ones. India 🇮🇳 is wild in comparison to NYC. Not only the tigers, leopards, king cobras, elephants, barking deer but the traffic the lack of drainage and infrastructure. At times, I felt afraid for my life but the people appeared so calm while passing a cow and a motorbike with an entire family on board around and uphill blind corner going 50 kilometers - they laughed as I clung to the handrails, so I began to take their cue and trust.
Now home, I miss the freedom, wildness and the kindness that everyone showed me. The open hearted & unguarded way that the young women I met shared their dreams of love and family and finding a suitable husband, as well as, the ways they shared their disappointments and frustrations with being a wife and mother.
Just like American women but different without apology for daring to dream for love 💗. Without self consciousness for admitting to needing wanting and knowing without reservation that love and family is the thing that matters most.
My American girlfriends will sometimes chid one another when facing yet another disappointment in love.
In America, we encourage aloneness and independence whereas, being alone and without support is unheard of to the women I met in India. If anything they become overwhelmed by constant contact with family and networks of friends.
When did we decide that we didn’t need each other?
That solitude is the only place one might come together in heart and mind?
This is unique to us, this belief, that separation is the best way to find resolution.
Now home, I miss the freedom, the connection and the chaos of India. I will most definitely return. I think next time to Rishikesh.
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