The Lemon clan has had a very long hibernation from blogging. Summer is over and ‘winter is coming’. Forget about that cup of hot chocolate. It’s about time we get our lemonade stand back up and running.
Since our last post so many, many months ago, the Brokelemon duo has been thrown back into the mix of real life – a mix that is more chunky than puréed. Working, shopping, suburban homemaking, socializing, wining and dining… all of which has couch potato’ed our creative energies so much that we’re starting to sprout leaves.
Speaking for myself, I have fallen into a hole that deepens with the phrase, “I’ll do it tomorrow”. Being that there is an endless supply of tomorrows, this laziness has not only infected my sense of writing, but has fracked its way into the creative drive of my video work as well. So much so, that I barely know how to begin explaining some of what I witnessed and did during my travels: Like climbing up the red stone steps of thousand year old pagodas in Myanmar, or literally throwing up my guts all over a sea turtle during a nauseatingly rocky scuba diving trip in the Philippines.
Before starting off on our jaunt, I didn’t understand what traveling could, or even would change in me. I was just excited to try something new. In that time, ‘something new’ became a way of life, an addiction that I now find hard to quit cold turkey.
For nearly three years, my life was enormously memorable and enriched. There were so many bonds made, cities visited, and cuisines sampled. Both Yen and I knew the day would come when we would need to check ourselves back into reality rehab, even though at the time the months seemed to stretch as if a black hole were sucking in our entire being and there was no escape. Now, like some distant dream, everything from that past seems so, ‘foreign’.
Since returning to the US I’ve come to terms with it. But, initially, I felt ripped out of a wonderfully vivid dream – like a global band-aid had been quickly torn off and I was left in a mild state of shock.
I often wonder if those years abroad really transpired. I feel like fellow travelers will relate to my sentiments. Sometimes it feels like I’m suffering from travelers PTSD. I came back home. I knew something happened. Something extraordinary, different, and mind blowing, but my friends and family can’t even begin to fathom what I’ve seen or done. Energetically they lend their attentions and ears and try very hard to relate. Sadly, there is just no possible conjunction in which they can relate to it all. Your unconventional decision to leave home, and the desire to disappear for months just for the sake of traveling seems to blow over their heads.
In lack of that connection, my loved ones just did what they could do (and I really can’t blame them) — they’ve thrust me back into their hierarchical role: the friend, the brother, the son, the worker, or whatever role I served before skipping town like an hour lost in a random time zone.
Since then I sit pensive, wondering and pondering over it all. Letting all of those experiences slow cook into a simmering pool of nostalgia. Just waiting for someone with a spoon of curiosity to come along willing to sample a taste of it.
My words might not fully capture some of the things both Yen and I have done. And if a photo is worth a thousand words, then perhaps a video is worth a thousand and one. I hope that after so long I can finally tear myself from this invisible couch and share a spoonful of hearty good memories. I don’t mind sharing, so bring your appetites and open wide for a little sample of the ever simmering nostalgic stew of BrokeLemons.
Thanks for following and joining us on our ever changing lives and adventures.