I have been absent from my country, from my family and the comfort zone that raised me up to adulthood, for a long time. I lived in three countries in one year and there is more sadness than joy in that adventure. The journey continues. I am still out there, in a kingdom, whose language I don’t speak and the culture is different as is the East from the West.
Meanwhile, there’s a lot of thinking going on. I can’t help myself reflecting on the differences in the life that’s in front of me. How will everything shape my thinking? and the further I press towards this matter, the more I have the sense of hearing my consciousness whispering about the roots.
There is a strong relationship between us and our ancestors.
Our roots are deep within us. I’ve learned the history of my country, on the subjects of the battles, the wars and the migration that accrued in the past. The style of life that my grandparents were raised during the war, and how my family pulled through. They were happy with less, and handmade everything and hand-repaired whatever was damaged. They raise children to love the land and animals. The strong relationship between humans and nature was uphold, holidays of celebrating the harvest was one of the most important feasts of the year. A cycle of respect that maintained generations and generations.
I am here. I am fine, not fully happy (but who is?) and I am filled with questions of how everything will be from now on.