Pulling into Southern California is a weird feeling after being away for so long… I always think it will not be a big deal, or that I should be jaded and calloused enough to hardly notice the homecoming… but it feels like returning from a foreign country… and it takes a little bit of time to get re-acclimated… part of the process is just getting used to NOT moving… NOT having to be in a new place the next day… not physically moving forward…

This time, more than ever, I felt a great choking claustrophobia as I drove into civilization here. After weeks and weeks of daily big-sky driving and open horizon landscapes, it felt like everything was constricting around me as I emerged from the desert and crossed into Southern California, USA… the buildings and freeways and traffic and noise… tightening and squeezing…

Until I made it all the way home to the ocean… and performed my ritual tradition. Parking the car, then, before I even go into the house, running out to the waves and the edge of the world… to watch the sun setting into the water… the antidote… the cure and balm… just sitting there and staring out over the ocean… to slowly ease into the idea of being back in the real world…