Processing

Tonight Diana and I went for a bike ride.  It was my first Moldovan flight, legs peddling hard and wind in my hair.  It felt so good to move fast...as fast as my thoughts.  We felt like two French ladies on our bicycles as we moved quickly past the vineyards of the famed Cricova winery.  It was fun...pure joy.

I haven't written a blog post in some time and wanted to check in with you all.  It's certainly not that "nothing" is happening.  Of course life is happening.  So much so that I am deeply in a state of processing.

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It is high fruit season here, meaning that many of the sweet fruits of summer have reached their peak.  The aroma of apricots, peaches, cherries and raspberries permeate the hot summer air as the Moldovan women wash, peel, pit and cut the fruits for preserving.  They are processing.

(n.) process- a systematic series of actions directed to some end

There IS some end, and there are many parts and means that build up to this end.  Currently I find myself still slaying dragons (for another post all together).  Being far from home, far from the people and places that for so long "helped" to shape my identity and ideas of the world, I have an amazing opportunity to decide what will come along and what will stay behind.  There is so much I have learned, but what garners wisdom and what brings destructive illusion?

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Some of the fruits are to be enjoyed on these hot summer days.  And others, processed with the intent and understanding that they will be enjoyed in the future.  If we don't process these fruits now, we cannot enjoy them later, perhaps when times are cold and dark.  We must make choices every day on how we will be sustained.  What are you processing?


Om tat sat.