Today, for the first time since returning to Shanghai 10 days ago, I feel centered. Centered enough to sit down and write a blog entry. Centered enough to consider how it was to go home to the U.S. and how it is to come back.

When my sisters and I were little and we’d bump into a wall or fall over a tree limb, our mom would open her mouth widely and sing, “Open your eyes, Junior Birdman.” She has a good voice and she always sang this loudly and dramatically, holding out the “eyes” for a good while with a lovely vibrato. I don’t know what that line is from or where she heard it, but it always proved successful in three ways. First off, it distracted us immediately from whatever small pain we might have incurred from the bump or the trip; second, it made us laugh (always a good thing); and third, it made us (well, me, at least...I can’t speak for my sisters) open my eyes and really look where I was going. It’s easy to wander about blindly, but not so easy to keep your eyes on your path.

My path over the years has been a winding one. It’s no secret that I’ve always chosen a more circuitous route through life than many. I’ve moved from place to place (Bethel Park, PA; Bloomington, IN; Washington, DC; Chicago, IL; Brooklyn, NY; Vermejo Park Ranch, New Mexico; Newburyport, MA; and now, Shanghai, China); I had two serious relationships before getting married; and I’ve found, lost, and found many dear friends. As I’ve traveled, I’ve bumped my head, banged my knees, and had my tender heart wounded lots of times. But each time, from somewhere in my head and heart, I hear my mom singing loudly...“Open your eyes, Junior Birdman.” So after healing up, I’d proceed on my kooky circuitous path, with my eyes open a wee bit more.

The one constant in my life, no matter where I went or who I was with, was my writing. I’ve been clear on that since I was eight. I amazed by that really...by the fact that while it’s taken a good bit time to become clear on many other aspects of my heart and head, I have followed the writing path from the very beginning and I have never strayed.

So how does all this relate to heading home to the States for the first time since moving to China? And to coming back?

Well, China is another stop on the route for me, and thankfully I’ve arrived here after a long life of learning to keep my eyes open. So going home was wonderful. I giggled with my niece and nephews, walked around Newburyport in the clean air, drove myself from place to place, ate food that I trusted, brushed my teeth in the tap water, visited friends, yakked with my sisters, worried about my parents...all the things I’d expected to make me happy upon my return. It was amazing.

But strangely enough, I realized upon my return that I’d missed China. I’d missed the challenge of the adventure. I’d missed the adventure. Crazy, huh?