I guess if a circle doesn't close, it is incomplete…? Does it lose strength? Does it deflate, or allow bad winds to invade its beautiful core?

Still, you run a finger in the sand, tracing the outline of the sun, or the outline of the moon, you begin with a point at the tip of your finger, then a short arc, a longer arc, a half-moon, three-quarters of the sun, and finally drag the fingertip back, back to where it approaches, touches, and completes the line; and you have made something that the eye can follow around and around without end.

When we left our homes at the bottom of the circle, during a new moon: the moon was aligned with the sun, was safely cradled in its arms, and kept her face to him, hidden from the earth. With each passing day, the moon rose almost an hour later than the sun (or is it earlier?), and the light of the night grew, filling while we were at Auroville — probably during this amazing dance event in the Verite Hall — then beginning to wane as our travel moved toward completion, and the amazing spiritual heights were replaced with quieter contemplation, a gentler and more superficial environment of waves and sand and sea… almost, almost as though the trip to date has been a gradual opening of the hand — what had been held tightly as a fist, managing households and relationships and work, softly opened, dropping everything it had contained, to be filled with new sights and sounds and habits, filled with moonlight on the opposite side of the planet — then the fingers close, gently again, closed around souvenirs, memories like precious stones, like gifts to be carried home. And so tonight I take the bus to Bangalore, the plane to London, and another plane to Boston and home. 

Yesterday Manny and I spent some time meditating together, the way we began the trip in our hotel in Bangalore, and have made similar touchstones throughout the travel. The closing circle brings all of what one would expect: a feeling of closure and the loss which accompanies all departures; a deep sense of quiet which has been our harvest in this travel; of fullness, letting the heart drift back to the memories — so recent yet seeming lifetimes ago! — of sweetness or struggle from the first step no Indian soil; and overarching all, like a glorious rainbow, a sense of immense gratitude to each other, for having made this journey what it was, and to our friends and especially families back home, all of whom created a root and sense of home, grounding and supporting this time spent in study and travel. Without doubt this time in India will be kept close to the heart, with the best adventures and events of a long life, to be brought out and dusted off when Manny and I meet, some time in the long future, after who knows what roads and what experiences, to reminisce. 

Meanwhile… this beautiful truth came into a song in Auroville, of course when I was not willing anything to happen, but just an instrument… with an instrument in my hands:

… the horizon, it seems, will collect all our dreams but a circle begins where it ends…

So be it. I take a deep breath, let out a deep sigh, and get ready for my last day in Goa.