Sometimes I’m tired of being almost brave. Sometimes I’m tired of staring into the unknown. It would be so much easier to just…..just go back home. Where everyone spoke my language. Where I understood the rules. Where things were more……predictable. I could find answers for my computer woes. I could find doctors for my ailments. I could find peanut butter at my corner store.
But the moments pass. And I’m back to living at risk. To hoping against hope for a life less ordinary. For a dream fulfilled. For a promise made….. and kept.
The water’s cold today. But I put my head back in. Because maybe………just maybe……. I’ll catch the next wave.
7 year old Skylar, 9 year old Tristan, on the beach in Essaouira, Morocco
