Marilyn over at Communicating Across Boundaries often blogs about what it means to be home and not at home, to be lost and yet comfortable wherever you are, and to be someone who is displaced or multicultural.
“So I am full. And also a bit frightened, because returning to my world does not hold a fraction of the connection I felt this weekend. I feel a bit like the disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration when they longed to cling to the moment, to build a memorial and live within. But to be full means you can go out nourished and able to move forward.
So as I board my flight I cling to the heritage I have, the people who have modeled and loved and walked beside me and the recognition that memorials are made of stone or steel or granite and real life is made of flesh and blood, tears and smiles, sorrow and joy.
I am indeed full.”