Singing

I heard a voice which I barely recognized. It was the song of my heart and my deepest soul.and as the days drifted past along the quiet edges of the lake, the song became louder.Once I accepted that my foolish notion of volunteering was indeed foolish, I placed myself into a jewellery making class to justify my time here. The class offered me a view to an inner circle of Pushkar, in fact maybe it was then that I began to emerge from my cocoon. I learned patience as tens of minutes would pass while harry, my teacher, chatted with whoever decided to drop by to say hello. I learned how to make rings and set stones, how to mold a piece of silver intoa work of art. This time forced me to be present. A melted pendant blantantly reminding me to stay present for the present.I came to India arrogant once again The white woman from America thinking she could make a diffrence. India doesn't need me. Oh, it desperately needs a better socialsystem, health care, clean water, jobs. But the systems have been put in place and have been working for centuries. Regardless of how I or anyone in the West may percieve this 'way' is entirely none of India's concern. I came wanting to find my heart. To hear it sing again. And as I always tell my companions whojoin me on my trips to Thailand, you may come for one thing, but the place, the place will know what you need and offer iot to you if you are willing to recieve.

And so the cycle continues to spin.