Being back home means facing the deli ma of getting used to people very dear to you all over again only to come to the terms that it is for temporary. Its turmoil for the heart and its overflow of emotions. It in a way is a pleasure you must endure through, you love being home but its not for permanence, so you have to see the sucky part and the best part at the same time. Its aweful.
I've had amazing times being back home though. Papa Moushon BBQ, making the best sand castle ever and flying kites, painting with light, exploring antique shops, eating my moms spaghetti sauce (anything she makes for that matter), seeing my lady everyday, being super productive with GV, and remembering old times because of familiar surroundings. I love being home, especially now that i live out of a 12 seater passenger van and a backpack and a big bag of personal items. I love living this simply, this light. I treasure new things now. I've learned on this road for the past 3 months that to God everyone has value, everyone is worth His sacrifice, we are all beautifully His creation and this thought causes me to rise above my stereotypes and judgments of people because this fact lets me glimpse into practicing and living compassion. There's more that i'm learning, i shall type again for part deux.