What now, T.S. Eliot?

Do I dare 

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

...so asks T.S. Eliot, in his poem "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." And I, in turn, ask myself, "Do I dare?" This question can mean so many things. When is a risk beautiful? What is freedom? On how many levels can one rattle the foundations of this universe and perceive new inklings of beauty?

I'm musing about Mr. Eliot because of Major Life Decisions, unsurprisingly. I'm musing because I just decided not to go to Alaska. I decided instead to move home to Eugene, Oregon and overwinter conceivably close to my family, listening to the sound of rain. "WHAT?!?" you ask, "Is this the Caitlin I know, the Caitlin who climbed an Egyptian pyramid in secret and stalked alpaca in the high Andes?" I dunno... the Buddha said that the self is an illusion. I just know that I'm not quite sure what "home" means anymore, and that I've been running for a long time. I know that after I bought my plane ticket to Alaska, things just didn't feel right. I've been to the plateau of Tibet and, spurred by some intangible itch of the soul, sprinted down the Friendship Highway through a nighttime thunderstorm. Everything has been preposterously beautiful, but I feel a bit lost and I can't pinpoint what I'm looking for. Yesterday when I was breaking up clods of earth in the garden beds it occurred to me that I need to be grounded for a while; to get in touch with my roots. 

So I'm going home. 

"Home."

Home?

...to the rain. The Northern Lights will wait.

Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.