Back from Mexico. So now what?

OK. So, first of all, my return to the dUSA begs the question, "Is a 'Marcel in Mexico' blog still appropriate?" Do I have to change the name of my blog every time I move? Was the blog just a one-time thing? Is there something particularly special about Mexico that calls for a blog?

Who knows. But apparently I have enough motivation to write this entry post-Mexico. So here it goes...

I've been back from Tijuana for about 3 months now and the transition still feels less than 50% complete. Does that mean I'm expecting a return to a previously defined state at which point I would be 100% transitioned? Perhaps I envision a "post-Mexico" Marcel more globally aware, with a deeper knowledge of the human condition. Yet these are already true. Somehow, I've been thrown into some unforseen vortex along the way HOME. Lost in my own being, I got sidetracked and haven't been able to return. What exactly got me here, I'm not sure. I have similar knowledge and skills as before, indicated by a similar MCAT score ("35" in 2006 vs "37 "in 2003). I am now nearly fluent in Spanish and have a new understanding of the Mexican culture. But the Spanish has replaced some German and French that was previously accessible. Is this just a crisis of identity? I thought I had that resolved in college.

So do I have a goal...a direction for my post-Mexico transition? Yes!! I want to get to know myself once more. I want to re-introduce myself to the 10 year old I once was, yet I want to retain the skills, knowledge, and wisdom I have attained in 25 years. I imagine my ideal state as similar to that of the HH Dalai Lama who, I have read, carries a childlike curiousity and wonder coupled to great wisdom. I want to be in this state. But that means I have to meet the 10-year old that was inhibitively shy as well as abundantly curious and creative. That's it! Creativity. I don't feel creative. My conversations are dull. I'm trapped beneath layers of social-training, trauma, etc. And there I am, sadly laughing at the outermost skin that is so far removed from me, that I can barely feel it. And yet, I just tapped the inner voice. But there it goes again. Slipping away from conciousness. I am less than 50% acclimated. One day I hope to be 0%. Just be. No transition. Like the ferry-man taking people across the river: always present in the current flow of life.