Home

I have safely arrived in frosty Minnesota, but my luggage is still suspended over the Atlantic somewhere. My mom and I barely made our connecting flight in Amsterdam (running through the terminal) because our plane out of London was delayed. We sat on the tarmac for an hour and a half while the airline hunted down some suspicious bags in the cargo. So, via FedEx, I'll be getting my clothes and souvenirs sometime this evening. For now, the jetlag wears off slowly, and I face the reality of being home.

It's a bit of a shock. Touring Oxford and London with Mom last week kept me distracted so that leaving England did not totally register in my mind. This is the first time coming home for Christmas has not felt like a relief. I could have stayed in Oxford and been content. There is a grief that comes at the end. That city was addicting, and I'm going through withdrawals.

In Japanese aesthetics, the fragility of a thing is an essential part of its beauty. Our lives are more beautiful because we die, a blossom is more beautiful because it wilts. Beginnings are in harmony with endings, and both are necessary to tap the deepest parts of our emotions. I have experienced life profoundly in these three and a half months in Oxford. The brevity of my time there taught me to connect with each day in a way unnecessary to those who have lived there for years. I am changed for life.

And I will keep blogging for the next few weeks. I'm not ready to be done with this experience just yet.