it has been 3 weeks since i have returned from my journey. i have been back almost the same amount of time as i was in iran. my return this time was not as difficult as the first. the transitions of first getting there and of getting back seem much easier. am i feeling more comfortable with this idea of having two homes? am i feeling more comfortable with blending two personalities? since i have been back i have spoken farsi or done something persian every day. i have either spoken with friends or relatives, listened to classical persian music, read rumi poetry, or played the persian drum. i also have persian tea every morning. i have not forgotten my persian life. instead i have melted it into my american life, very unconsciously. it slowly bloomed by itself inside of me like the flowers outside. the wind came and scattered some of the petals so that they beautifully landed on different parts of my internal landscape.
but even still, sometimes it is hard to remember my hopes and dreams. in the hectic and busy life of an american, it is difficult to remember the jasmine and the beautiful verses of poetry. it is difficult to remember the smell of fresh baked bread and rice on the stove. it is difficult to remember afternoon tea after getting up from your afternoon nap. it is difficult to remember the love and dedication of family. but i am determined to not let those things fall away. flowers all have their season of bloom. but even after they are done, they don’t die. they either bloom again next year or spread their seeds so that the flowers continue.
POMEGRANATES AND DREAMS 