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A cure for emotional jetlag

You've been feeling jetlagged this last week although you never left the state, let alone the time zone. Sometimes the world and your past come to you.
Re-entry. Still from the movie Gravity.
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367 days after re-entry

Ten years ago, a lady named Debbie asked me if I was studying Spanish because I wanted to be a missionary in South America. At the time it was a seriously long bow to draw - I in fact had no better reason for studying Spanish other than Age of Empires and the Spanish national football team. Once I started learning the language, I discovered how beautiful it was to the ear, the mind, the tongue. But even then I didn't have any particular interest in Latin American culture. I had even less interest in becoming a missionary. Debbie and I are unlikely to cross paths again, but what she said turned out to be rather prophetic.
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What feels like home

4,000m above sea level and 400,000m from the closest shore of the Pacific Ocean, playing beach volleyball every Sunday afternoon in the park somehow became one of the defining elements of my life in La Paz. Now, at sea level and right on the shores of the Pacific Ocean, playing beach volleyball every Monday evening in Manly is becoming an anchor, a touchpoint, to each week here in Sydney. It's funny, the unlikely things that make me feel at home.
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The opposite of vertigo

The opposite of vertigo Is your wings poised for flight and your feet stuck in cement; Is the skyward pull that makes you ill to be on the ground. Gravity versus your dreams. The opposite of vertigo Is conversations about the weather and getting angry at traffic; Is display windows taunting you with things that won’t make you happy. You can see right through them. From the pit of your stomach to the tip of your tongue the air here’s thick, swallows up inspiration. The opposite of vertigo Is the sickening sensation of settling; Is being shackled when you should be airborne. The opposite of vertigo Is the curse of those who come down from altitude; Is the Icarus in you and me.
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How South America messed me up good

People always ask me about my time in South America. Some are genuinely interested, while for others it's the polite and logical thing to ask. In either case, the truth is that these conversations have started to get a bit repetitive and I'm often left wishing I could say more than: that Latinos are warmer; that Andean dishes contain too many carbs; that working with survivors of child sexual abuse was hard as you'd imagine but so rewarding; that I'm not sure how to answer your question about how good my Spanish is. The worst thing is that I can't seem to do Bolivia and Ecuador justice - not in a brief conversation that could turn to a different topic at any given moment. So below are a few noteworthy things I don't generally get to share about the impact that my time in South America has had on me as a person and who I am now.
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Next stop: Sydney

Tomorrow will be my first day in Monday to Friday, 9 to 5, paid employment in Sydney. There is…

down and up again

Settling back in had been going pretty well. It was good gradually catching up with friends rather than…