Lights Will Guide You Home, And Ignite Your Bones


Every few nights, when we were kids, my sister relieved all pressure in my body by snap-crackling my spine. I’d take position on the floor: face-down, perfectly centered in the doorway between the den and the hallway. Using the door molding for equal parts balance and leverage, she’d hold on and stand, full-force-both-feet, on my back, walking both feet up and down either side of my spine. A ‘good one’ sounded like microwave popcorn at peak poptime.

For two full days before the big international trip that launched today, I was couchbound, fully whipped with the flu. Too tired to pack, too sick to go buy trail mix and power bars for survival in MSG-filled China and too sore to do laundry.

Last night, I needed Em’s feet. All the anxiety that comes before entering the zone where English pleases and thank yous are meaningless rested like a sheet of taut bubblewrap in my spine.

I dreamt about her and thanksgiving, lemon pie and the pineapple we decorate like a turkey. And somehow, she loosened everything up.

This morning, my body rallied. All my energy came back with force and I’m ready for the road.

First stop, Orange County, for a study in contrasts before heading to Mianyang (“sheep”) China, where there are no airports and no toilets.

Promising more photos this trip than last. Talk to me - words from home are extra warm from far away.


Don’t Know You No More


Onboard, two text messages arrived at almost the same time, just before all electronics had to be shut off:

#1, from first love, now steady sweet scott: “You’re on your way! Be safe and be in touch. And remember – thanksgiving’s at the end of this road”

#2, from my “husband:” “Hey! How r u? U in town? I’m on vacation this week!”

Another study in contrasts. How things have changed since this time last year, when I hadn’t seen scott in 8 years and I was thankful for lucio.