I'm going back home, well more like a short break, to recollect, to rethink, and to reflect on this past year. People say on a journey like this, you find some meaning of life. If there's anything I've learned, it's that there exists no one meaning. The only thing constant in life is change. I read and reread my blogs and I see my change. I carried a lot of hate and anger. I still do. But it is a demon that I am constantly battling and I think, I'm winning.
My friends tell me I should write a book about my travels. I tell them that if I write a book, it won't be about me. This journey, has never been about me. But about my teachers. The ones I met along the way.
It has been about the gracious hosts who proved that despite all the ugliness in this world, there is still always room for kindness. For all the boxers who generously shared their stories, opened their homes, and most importantly, entrusted me with their hopes. For every panhandler, begger, and street vendor that taught me my reflection through just being, them. For all the friends and family that gave their energy when I could no longer stand on my own. And for that special one, who showed me my capability to love unconsciously and unconditionally.