The Carpet Lady

The carpet lady set me off. While selling me a tapestry, she told of teaching English in Nepal for twelve years. I could teach in Nepal.

The tug is strong, a full-body pull.

Go, go. Teach, teach.

My feet have been firmly on Colorado ground these seven years. I have been burying a past and building a life, step by step up mountains, shedding layers of sweat, memory, bringing alive new parts of me. Teaching kids, making friends, loving so many. Enjoying a full, close relationship with my favorite sister. Your lives get wrapped in each other's and it feels good. It feels like a well-woven tapestry full of brilliant colors offsetting the dull ones cuz yes, they're there too.

And I'm close to him. If I stay with him, Nepal is out of the question. So is a spontaneous summer car trip up the California coast and hiking in the Northwest. The imagination is curbed. He adds a layer of consideration. His feet are firmly on Colorado ground for the indefinite (and loooong) future. If I accept that love and keep this relationship going... no Nepal for me.

The carpet lady gave me pause, made me long. Eyes a-sparkle, old hands wide and expressive. A story. A caring. Somewhere far away. A different way of being. Consider the possibilities. Indulge the thought, to think that I could do it. I have the skill set, the interest, the drive... to go other places. To be different.

I have wanderlust. That lady and her magic carpet have taken my brain for a ride.

I want to go.