Gathering for a meal. A human phenomenon that all of us, no matter our language, our religion, social status, dietary preferences, gender associations, rich or poor, inherently share.
To be invited into someone's home for a meal can be an extraordinary experience.
I've been going through the Nepal archives lately. It's part of the process of picking myself back up from the slump that a number of you have read about and seen. I'm most thankful for those who have dropped some love and phoned me directly. I promise I am significantly better now. I've got a lot to look forward to, and a good chunk of that is seeing/catching up with/venturing with some of you.
Nepal has been such an immense part of my life since 2015. When I say Nepal, I refer to the whole experience - the land, oh that sweet, sweet chiseled mountainous terrain we call the Himalayas, the elements, the people, the generosity, the chaos, smells, sounds, textures, the juxtaposition of life and death, deep ancient traditions with modern influences, and the squat toilets.
The meals, too, of course. The shared meals with the locals are something else.