I came home from Mexico ill and not of the gastro variety. Instead my body found it sufficient, glassy eyes and congested head to lie in bed all day Monday until at 5:30 p.m. I pulled myself up off of the grassy flannel sheets and allowed my eyes oh- five minutes to focus out of the stupor of whence they came.
My chiropractor said it briefly, so briefly I could have chosen to not hear what he said.
“You can’t live there.”
Hmm. And thus began a dissection of what happens to an asthmatic in an overly smoggy, smoke-ridden city. “You could live there for maybe a year, but longer and you will compromise your health and the length of your life.” Wow. Never thought about that before. Specifically never considered air purity as a key component on future landing pads… Until now. And am interested to consider how India has diminished in my periscope’s lens. My thoughts turn to Amy Carmichael leaving Ceylon for India because her health suffered much in the land to which she originally felt latched. But then consider the outpouring… and thus the thread is frayed, beckoning me to consider its cutting or rectification. No dramatic swells in music here. Just a simple pause and questioning hmm.