Photo by Abigail Carlisle

A few weeks ago I landed at JFK airport in New York City, after a 20-hour flight originating in Chiang Mai, Thailand. Passing through customs was like a walk through the United Nations. As I walked down the hallways toward the metro, I noticed “New York Deli” offering not only pretzels and hot dogs, but also superfood veggie juices, healthy snack bars, and fresh panini sandwiches featuring flavors from around the world. I smiled at the progressiveness and creativity of this country, of “America,” my homeland. While everything felt so different than Chiang Mai, everything also felt so familiar. As I stood on the train with my suitcase and backpack, I marveled at the faces, voices, styles, and varying degrees of interaction. I reflected on how at home I feel in Chiang Mai, and observed the mix of excitement and nervousness I experienced to be in my home country again after being away for a number of years.

A few more train rides later and I was surrounded by vibrant green mountains, vast blue skies, and trees in every direction as far as I could see. The air was fresh, the sun was bright and warm, and I relished the almost forgotten sensation of “cool” on my skin. I was now on the opposite side of the planet from Chiang Mai, the city that has been my home for nearly seven years. I was at Rolling Ridge Study Retreat Community, my “landing place,” and a new place for me. I chose to start off my two month visit to the US surrounded by nature, and my heart had guided me to attend the “Courting the Realm of Dream and Deep Imagination” retreat. Intuitively, I sensed that this setting would assist me in connecting with myself and with nature, both valuable steps in preparing me to “re-enter” American culture and reunite with friends and family. The retreat provided a multitude of opportunities for me to do just that: walks and wanders among the trees, sleeping in my tent, dreaming my dreams, wake-walking my dreams, absorbing the poetry and guidance of the retreat facilitators, sharing stories and musings with the other participants. At our closing “heart circle,” each participant was invited to share about his or her experience, guided by a fellow participant’s question. The question posed to me was: “Oh World Traveler, where is your home?”

Such a question. Such an inquiry into my heart that I had not had the courage to even inquire of myself. I dropped into the depths of my feelings and my being, looking for an answer, looking for my answer. Tears came. Is Thailand my home? Is America my home? How can I choose? Which one is more “me?” I felt the fullness of such a question. And then I felt the emptiness of not knowing. And then came an awareness, a truth. My truth. I am home whenever I am fully present in the moment and place in which I am.

After the retreat I stayed a few days with a family that lives on the Rolling Ridge grounds, holding my newlyfound truth close to my heart. One day I mapped out a loop around the grounds to go on a solo hike. At about the half-way point of my journey, I had trouble finding a turn off for one of the trails where the brush had grown over the path. I kept going along the trail I was on, knowing there was another turn off ahead I could take for a slightly longer loop back home. Soon, I again found myself walking in circles looking for the path. I debated whether I should turn back and go home the way I came, forgoing my intention to make a circuit and see other parts of the forest. After searching for a trail blaze or clear path, I suddenly realized that I had now lost track of the trail I had been on. I studied the map again, and decided I would have to walk quite a ways north-north-east through the woods to intersect a larger east-to-west trail that would take me home – “Powerline Trail.” I used the sun as my compass, walking and trekking through the forest. The trees got thicker, the sun sank lower, and I was getting a little chilly, but I kept my eye on the sun and kept going. I reached a point where I was doubting my ability to navigate by the sun and wondered if I had gone too far eastward and missed Powerline Trail all together. I paused, took a few deep breaths, listened to my heart beat. Then I looked down at my feet, and just inches from my toes was a beautiful box turtle. I instantly felt a surge of hope and divine guidance. I looked at the sun to determine which direction the turtle was facing: directly north. I received this as a sign, thanked the precious creature and continued north with renewed vigor. Within minutes, my eyes were lifted from the brush below by an increase in light. The forest ceiling ahead was clear and open – power lines above with the wide trail below! I still had another hour to get all the way back, but I was on the right path.

The following day I went on a shorter, well-marked hike with my host’s six-year old daughter. Upon her request, we went to the Tree House and Yurt. Our three-hour trek was a special time of singing and skipping and peeing in the woods, drawing, writing, and chatting. While we were in the Tree House, we heard a scuffle from the ground below. She thought it was a fox, and I flashed on the thought, “it might be a turtle.” Sure enough, it was a turtle. We went down to say hello. Only in that moment that I had an up close interaction with a box turtle for the second day in a row did I realize…. I am like a turtle. I can make my home wherever I go. The possibility and the choice is mine to create