Freedom, On a Bus in Kathmandu

I remember what it felt like. what it tasted like. it's weightlessness. it's color. it's texture. I remember how relieved I was to feel it, and how, at the same time, sad I was to have ever lost it. I remember the remembering. 

Why I Write

i write to understand, i write to discover, i write to make sense of, i write to release, i write to heal, i write because that is what i have always done ...

The Woven Road: India

in the midst of the maddening chaos and unexpected kindness we often find on the road, we are ever reminded of all the things that bring us together –  love, adventure, food, conversation and the shared struggles of our journeys ...

The Village, The Beginning

i guess you could say that i never really knew those villages, and the valleys that housed them. you could say that i was a stranger to those night skies, and that the splinter of space that ran between my world and their’s was too big to bridge.