I'm Sad that it's Okay... -- Lake Atitlan, Guatemala

I haven't written in over a week because I've been busy. So busy with massages, yoga, and helping out with guided retreats that I've only had time for two paintings within the last few days. Which is unprecedented for me, as of late.

This is my 5th commissioned dog. I'm becoming amazing at noses (the rest is questionable). Holy bananas.

I've been busy and bursting with the myriad of emotions that rear their ugly, homesick heads around Christmas time.

This Christmas will be the fifth I've spent away from friends and family within the last six years. I had a Christmas in Copenhagen. A Christmas in Puerto Escondido. A Christmas in Istanbul. A Christmas in some remote Nepali village. And now a Christmas on Lake Atitlan. 

That's a lot of being away from friends and family.

And... and I guess I'm sad that being away is okay. I'm sad that spending holidays away from home feels normal for me.  

What does that say about me? About the kind of person I am? 

I don't know if I can answer that question. If I want to answer that question. If I can process the answer right now. 

I spent my last chill afternoon sipping a five Quetzales beer out of my green Hydro Flask and reading a Sci-Fi novel instead of my mindfulness books. My blue scarf drawn high around my neck, my grey hood pulled over my head, my knees drawn into my chest. Hiding my puffy eyes, tears, and the deep, sad lines digging trenches into my forehead.

I don't want it to be okay anymore. I... I want to feel tied to a place. I want to feel grounded enough to at least be called home for Christmas. 

Whatever home means.

Jonas noticed my sadness. He sat next to me on the wooden deck. Quietly.

"Let me know if you need to talk. If there's anything I can do. There seems to be a lot of emotions going around right now."

Nele noticed my sadness. She sat next to me on the wooden deck. Softly. I put my head on her shoulder, comforted by the pink sweater that looks like the Easter Bunny died to make it.

"Do you want to talk?" Nele asked.

No... but... but it will be healthy for me to get some of this out of my head. And Nele is a good person to help me carry this.

"I'm just really sad. I'm sad that it's okay that I'm not going home for Christmas this year. And I think that I've got this giant, awful melancholy in my life, and I can't deal with it. So instead of working through the real problem, I find little things to help me cope. And I get ridiculously attached to them. And then when they don't work out, I collapse. Like now. I wanted to paint this morning. I had in mind that I'd sit here, with my instant coffee and my watercolors, and would have this time to feel good and centered and relaxed. And that would help me cope with all the other shit. But I wasn't able to paint this morning, and now I'm having an emotional breakdown."

It's okay to feel this sadness, Bourget. It's okay to feel this melancholy. Try not to deny yourself this experience. What can you learn from these feelings? Are your priorities shifting? 

You don't need to answer any questions now. You don't need to have solutions. Just... just be gentle with yourself and be present to your feelings. Whatever they happen to be. 

Even though I feel melancholic about not being home this time of year, I'm grateful that I get to spend Christmas with Jonas and Michelle. With Kayla and Nele and Anna. With Tammo and James and Blake. We're filling the holiday season with dance, music, Secret Santa, cheese (we're all going to El Artesano on the 26th), and I have elected myself to be in charge of the mulled wine. And there will not be a small amount of mulled wine. Nor will it be weak.

In other news, I now have a tent-mate. Long gone are the despondent nights of sharing my circus tent with only the scorpions and spiders. Now I share it with a delightful German chap named Tammo (and the scorpions and spiders). And we've named our tent at the bottom of the stairs "The Submarine" (no prizes to guess why).

We're going to decorate. As soon as I finish my last commissioned animal, I'm going to do a watercolor of a yellow submarine to hang outside the tent flap.

No prizes to guess why.