Coming Home

Currently writing on the eve of Christmas Eve, from PA. I'm no longer working at CEC, and quickly moving forward with a new job to avoid feeling the full effect of the reality that I packed all of my bags (who knew you could collect so much in 18 months?) when I left Monteverde this December. It's hard to describe how I've been feeling, which explains the prolonged silence. I spent the month after being let go with applying to teaching jobs and putting off saying goodbye. I flirted with the idea of finding another teaching job on the mountain, or another something else job. I still love so much of what I found in Monteverde. The one paved road and stopping along it to chat with familiar faces. Where the paved road meets the unpaved road. The door that we seldom locked and was often pushed open with an "Upe!" or a gust of wind. Learning to dance, to cook, to live with new rhythms. The rain, feeling certain that you could touch the end of a rainbow around the corner. The wind, and how it could knock you over, lift you up. Although I don't have solid plans for my future, I know that I'll be back, that I'll change and that the mountain will change, along with the folks I know who're still there and those that will come and go without me meeting them. I'm both excited and hesitant as I move forward. Being greeted in PA with a record snow storm was a smack in the face to remind me that airplanes as well as tornadoes can take you far away from what's familiar, that "there's no place like home", but that home is more than where I drop my suitcases. I smiled on Tuesday when I went to my new school, with 1100 students, and found a teacher potluck to celebrate the upcoming vacation. Although I had to rush to finish in the 30 minute lunch period, I could already see possibilities for finding new ways to expand my "home".