Home.

This year has been a struggle. Through crazy illness, and not being able to do what I love most, which is dance. I am still recovering. I still flare up. Today I am stuck in bed with another flare up in my leg.

There is a festival in the mountains of beautiful BC Canada, called Shambhala. It is home. It is in 12 days. I missed last year. I missed home.

I am supposed to go back this year, and boy do I ever need that loving beautiful community right now. As it stands I’m bringing my crutches and air cast, to have on standby in case I need them.

It might be a quieter year for me. But that’s ok. Because the vibes are what I need. The calming hugs from strangers. The little gifts of life it brings.

Whether I am walking or dancing or not, I’m coming home.

Home is where I need to be. With all the other 15,000 dancing souls. ❤

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