One of the stories in process is about flow: when we let go of trying to control everything, we learn to move through life with grace. Rivers are good teachers of this principle, as is all water. One my most visceral experiences of flow was here on the streets of Varanasi, India, one of the oldest cities in the world. One of my fellow travelers and I were wedged into the seat of a bicycle cart, feeling uncomfortable with a thin Indian man hauling us up this long hill. He would not allow us to get out, so we stayed and squirmed. 

At this point in our journey, we had slept on a train platform overnight in Delhi, then crawled through the thickly-fogged Indian countryside for nearly 24 hours on the train. More stories – and photos – as I get the chance to write.

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