These past few days have been chilly, snowy, nothing to do but roam around the house days.
I have reminiscence written all over me.
Photo albums are being pored over, old love notes read and re-read and journals flipped through and smiled at fondly.
Above is the journal I kept on my first trip to India back in 2009, it's probably been about three years since I last read through it. My fingers tips are worn smooth from turning so many pages that still smell like a mixture of incense and spices, a ghost of a scent trapped and preserved between the pages after all these years.
Reading through my entries I'm amazed at how resolved I was to document not just the events of my trip but the emotions, the connections, the conversations and the lessons learned.
I scribbled down quotes and snatches gleaned from chats with fellow travelers; things that resonated with me or I wanted to remember for future reference. Compliments given to me or assertions on life that had never occurred to me before.
I wrote lengthy excerpts from books that I was reading while I traveled, stories told by taxi and rickshaw drivers, my fortune given by a palm reader.
There are maps, phone numbers and email addresses scribbled in the margins alongside my own doodles and calender entries detailing what I did each day.
I will forever know that on June 4th of 2009 I "Sat next to the ocean reading Hemingway and drinking Ginger Lemon Honey Tea".
Every page is filled with the people I met, their impressions on me, the experiences I had, the romances and what I learned from them.
I'm so glad I have this keepsake from the most magical and influential 4 months of my life to treasure and keep for always.
It's a reminder in this time of healing of what once was and what once again can be.
I'll leave you with a final thought- a sentence scribbled on to the first page of my book, whether it was a quote I heard or read or it came from my own brain I can't remember, but it's a nice thought, and one that serves me well in this current path I'm taking...