Take Me Home

I’ve returned.

Since I’ve been back in the States, I’ve made new friends and fallen away from old ones.  I have been exhilarated and truly brokenhearted.  I have been kicked out of a Vipassana retreat simply for being connected to Spirit.  I had a car accident.  I reunited with an old friend who brings me infinite joy and hope in the ability of friendships to ebb and flow, to change.  I have spent precious moments with my Mom in conversation, and heart-bursting moments of connectedness with my Dad.  I have worked out, done Yoga, Pilates, and run until my left foot ached.  I have eaten blueberries until I felt sick. I went swimming in a lake that was warm due to a nearby nuclear power plant. I have been loved and supported. I have received insincere offers to connect.  I have lost my best guy friend.  I opened a business.  I have withdrawn and expanded.  I met Cliff and Sally, the kind of people that restore your hope in humanity.  I have cuddled my bulldog, Pub, and I had a big enough heart to let him remain in his new home with his new “mommy.”  I have had moments of pure miss for friends that I made while traveling.  I have longed to travel more.  I researched trips and flights to Spain, Brazil, and Ireland.  I have made plans to go see the Grand Canyon.  I have given psychic readings and energy healings; I have received both in return.  I detoxed and juiced with a dear friend, and she taught me about herbs for healing.  I held a friend while she cried.  I created a website (www.wix.com/travelspirit/danachilds).  I stopped writing and started again.  I went to a high school graduation.  I spent a week with my family on vacation in Florida. I learned how to communicate with animals.  I hiked a mountain, sat in an ancient, ceremonial Indian seat and felt the immense power that emanated from the stone.  I moved back to Charlotte.  I saw Xavier Rudd in concert and was absolutely awed.  I have cried.  I have laughed.  I have hugged people that I missed.  I have continued to become.  I had culture shock, accompanied by three cultural meltdowns.  I met a man who restored my faith in the potential of love and good men, and I read Rumi.  I have had epiphanies.  I have felt my body warm after reading the text, “I love the way you talk to me.” I have had some terrible dates.  I have sent the following text:  “My date: 1. I had to be the man and pick the place and time. 2. He was 30 mins late. 3. When he went to get his drink he didn’t ask if I needed anything (which I didn’t, but boo on the etiquette) 4.  He wore a Hawaiian shirt with hula dancers in bikinis all over it. 5. Within 10 mins I was bored and tired. 6. After 45 mins I said I had to go. He wants to do it again next week.”  And now, I sit processing through my travels, climbing back over words that I have written while traveling, and feelings that places have evoked.  And, I find myself wanting to connect back into my blog, connect back to the group of people that supported me in my travels.  From my heart to yours, here are excerpts previously unpublished….

April 2010 – Fatephur Sikri, India  The Tomb of Salim Chisti

The tour guide, Soukin, shows me around.  He has a boyish grin and a soul of pure gold. He takes pictures in all the good places, and takes me to a seller so I can purchase the necessary cloth with which to make my wishes.  He tells me that the cloth will be donated to the needy and explains to me the process of making a wish, clarifies that I get to make three, and leads me into Salim Chisti’s tomb.  I delicately lay out the cloth and spread the flowers over the tomb.  Soukin leads me to a window so I can tie my threads around the marble cut-outs and make my three wishes.  “Wishes from the heart,” he says.  “Keep in your heart.  Don’t tell.  Guaranteed 100% to come true.” I close my eyes and hold the thread over my heart, searching it for its deepest desires.  I find my first wish and open my eyes to tie the thread.  Soukin smiles at me.  I do the same for my second wish – it’s a wish for friends and family that is sitting in my heart.  I open my eyes to tie the second string around the marble lattice.  Soukin laughs at me.  “You’re funny,” he says.  I smile.  Close my eyes and probe my heart’s depths for my third and final wish.  I make it.  I tie the string.  I exhale.

And, as I type this now, I sit in eager anticipation for that third wish…..for the first two have already come to be.


Making Wishes

April 2010  Jaipur, India

I am sick.  And I long for familiar sounds; the sound of a car passing by on a wet road, the sound of sports on television, the sound of low conversation by family and friends in the background, the tip-tap shuffling of Pub’s feet on the floor, of doors opening and closing, the sound of my name said by a familiar voice and holding within it the past that we share, the person they know me to be.

April 2010 Udaipur, India

The manager of the hotel, Baba, has joined us on the rooftop for a drink.  He looks at me.  “I can read palm,” he says.  He takes my palm.  “You are very powerful.  You are happy.  Happy woman.  You listen to others, but you always listen to self.  You believe in yourself.  You no believe in others, no need others because you see a problem, you solve.  You no need help.  How you say this?”

“Independent?” I offer.

“Yes.  Independent,” he says.  “It’s in your eyes.  You are look in glass, you see you.  Business.  You open shop or start business, you will make money.  Lots of money.  If you run shop, not husband, not family, but you, then it will be successful.”

“What should I sell?” I ask.

“Books, flowers, no matter what you sell.  It will be successful.  You understand everything?”

“What did you mean about the eyes and glass?” I ask him.

“Come madam.”  He leads me around the corner and stands me in front of the mirror.  I giggle – like standing in front of a mirror makes me do.  “No laugh,” he says.  “Look your eyes.  Look.  You see power?”

I look.  I see it.  I nod.

“You see.  You believe or no believe.  This I am telling you.”

April 2010, Udaipur, India

“Why wouldn’t they want us to learn Hindi?” I ask Rich.   “Who?” he asks me.  “The couple on the roof, Preet and the guy.  You know – her boyfriend, the camel jockey.”

Silence.  I look at Richard.  He looks at me.

“Oh my God.  We met a camel jockey,” I laugh.  “ A successful one at that,” he says.

May 2010 Jaisalmer, India The Desert

I look to the horizon.  All around me, the edges disappear into a haze.  There is no end, no beginning.  I close my eyes.  A slight breeze blows.  I feel it caress my face – a warm, light touch.  I rise and fall with the motions of the camel; there is no separation between animal and rider.

The desert is sexy.

I lie under the tree in the shade.  The breeze blows hot across my skin, my skin sprinkled with sand. The sun seeks an opportunity to burn through.  It blazes.  It roars from the heavens.  I see the gauze of air that the heat creates – rising from the sand.  I taste the sand in my mouth.

The desert is fierce.

My camel

Thar Desert

May 2010 Rishikesh, India

The light from the moon is still really the light from the sun.  They are not separate.  This light is all the same source.  From the same place even though it appears separate.  All one.  All connected.

June 2010 Bagsu, India

He was thoughtless, insensitive.  I was crushed. Hurt.  Scared.  Lonely.  Just ALONE. And I wanted to leave Bagsu.  Pack up and go.  Run away.  Hello old pattern.  I thought of Dr. Usha. Dr. Usha, my Reiki teacher, my sister from another lifetime. Dr. Usha, who was clear and strong and wise and lovely.  She could help, help me feel less alone.  And I went to her.  She and I talked about me working with her, doing my own healing stuff and helping her open an office in Goa on the beach.  And we connected.  And she said to me, “If I were a man, I would propose right now.  I see the light in you.” I laughed.  We high-fived. She said, “And we are not lesbian, so we’re here.  You can love ten men at the same time; it’s just a matter of the societal, physical boundaries that you apply.  But love is there.  Everywhere there is love.”

Dr. Usha

October 12, 2010 Bali, Indonesia

On my birthday, I wake up and write a Dear Universe note.  They are simple.  You begin with Dear Universe, and you proceed to ask for exactly what you want.  I remember learning how to do this from my very first spiritual teacher.  She told us about her experience with her Dear Universe letter to manifest her husband.  Dear Universe letters are detailed, and she included what he looked like, his level of intelligence, even the fact that he spoke several different languages.  She met him shortly thereafter.  But, she forgot to stipulate that one of the several different languages be English.  They got married anyway.  And, she said, if he had spoken English and they had been able to clearly understand one another, they wouldn’t have gotten married. But, they work.  They’re still together.

So, I write my Dear Universe note.  “Dear Universe, you already know what I want for my birthday…and could you please send him wrapped in a bow?”

My roommate, Mexico, comes home with a chocolate cake for me.  He takes the ribbon off and wraps the red bow around his head as he sings “Happy Birthday.” I laugh.  He’s gay.  Literally. Right, I think. Be specific.

The One and Only....Mexico

December 16, 2010 Bali, Indonesia

Loneliness greets me every morning and strokes my hair every night.  I am familiar now with fear, with doubt, with insecurity, longing, and rejection.  I miss confidence, togetherness, sexiness.  I miss something beautiful.  I miss love. I miss me.

February 1, 2011 Bali, Indonesia

While I am excited about going home to The States….I mean, I really don’t know where home is as of yet…..I am also filled with a sense of dread and fear.  But what I came to understand today is that going home doesn’t mean living less fully, exploring less eagerly.  There is still room to explore, to create.  I can paint with my body, hike the Appalachian Trail, scream into the Grand Canyon.  I can still dance on the beach and wear flowers in my hair.  It is ME, my BEING, not my surroundings.  I choose my happiness.  I choose who I am in every second.  No matter where I am, there is always something to explore, something new to learn.  I give my surroundings life, not the other way around.  And whatever I choose, where I go, it is always perfect because Spirit will always be there.


~ by Dana Childs: Intuitive on July 31, 2011.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: