I’m back for another morning at Himalayan Java. It’s a popular coffee chain here in Nepal. I have my hot coffee latte in my hand, and my girlfriend is journaling next to me.
I hear faint, classic Christmas music playing in the distance. I hear the small voices of indistinct chatter arise from the table near me; they’re speaking in a foreign language I don’t know.
I take another sip, and the hunger I had from not having breakfast yet temporarily subsides. It’s 11:44 am, and it’s Christmas.
I’m having a late morning, and I love it. Christmas had me feeling very homesick this morning, but I wrote letters to my family back in California, and I’m feeling much better.
I know what it’s like to think a lot and be in my head. But what I’m enjoying at this moment is writing what my senses can see, hear, taste, and feel.
I’m writing in a cheap notebook I bought at a local convenience store that works just as well as the expensive Rhodia notebook from France that I ran out of.
We’re leaving Nepal sooner than expected, and have already booked our flight to Kuala Lumpur on January 5th. I feel like I’m always moving. The crazy thing is, the more I move, the slower time feels.
We’ve been in Nepal for a little over two months now, but it has felt like a full chapter in my life. Some of the other chapters in my life have lasted over a couple of years, which means I’m growing a lot on this trip.
I’m writing in this style because I want my journal entries to be different than the rest of what I write. The channeled writing I share in my longer essays and books is so powerful. I feel the extraordinary, positive energy that flows from those words every time I write.
But my ego needs to speak as well. My ego wants to be seen, to be heard, and to be loved. My ego isn’t my enemy; it’s an intimate part of me.
I love my ego, and it deserves to be loved, like all parts of me. Now my ego is communicating with the rest of my body, and they’ve agreed that I need to eat, which means it’s time for brunch.
Happy holidays! May this season be filled with magic, and all the wonderful types of love that nourish your entire being.
Love,
Eric
