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Published: August 21st 2007
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Having arrived at Pearson International Airport a full 2 1/2 hours before check-in, I was presented with the opportunity to sit and contemplate the journey I am about to undertake. Not that this contemplation has not occured in the months weeks and days leading up to this momentous departure. The difference now is that the experience resides in the realm of reality as opposed to fantasitc anticipation. I am still relatively unawares as to what this trip holds in store for me. While the mere concept of traveling SUCH a great distance to SUCH a vastly different place still holds a great air of mystery for me, now the mystery is unfolding before my eyes, as opposed to living in fantasy and research.
I was extremely happy and surprised to have my Mom and siblings (sans Merritt who labours like a champion day in and day out) come to see me off at the airport. It was very reassuring to have my family come and share in a small yet significant part of this trip, and it felt good to have them there. I am sure that their love and support will follow me along my way. My mother, a
woman of resounding spiritual depth with an infinite heart, presented me with a sacred talisman to protect and guide me during my travels. A crystal for guidence, a clay tablet depicting a Cretan goddess to represent Her divinity within me and the holy place to which I travel, and a rose quartz as a representation of motherly love. All of these items, tied three times in a green sack, hold power and spirit and love, of this I am sure. I imagine mothers have been giving similar items to their traveling children since the beginning of time; this sense of the ancient increases my trust in these items and what they represent, and give me even more confidence that I am following a path that is more significant than I can even appreciate at this point in time.
The trip from Toronto to Paris, while routine for some, was totally emblematic of my sentiments towards this whole endeavor. Always a history student at heart, I could not help but think how people a mere century ago would have thought it ludacris to elevate a container full of people into the clouds and then send them across the ocean, with every intention of landing safely on the other side. I felt a bit skeptical myself, fully understanding on an intellectual level that people fly over the Atlantic Ocean every day, yet experientially harbouring some doubt. That I am writing this now is an indication of how we fared our Atlantic crossing, yet I remain amazed that I am over 6000 km from where I was 8 hours ago. Now on our way from Paris to Chennai (Madras) we are in the clouds yet again, and I am equally amazed and eleated (if not slightly exhausted) with this exceptional expereince I have the good fortune and ability to undertake.
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