Awakening

There is an awakening
from deep within.

Uncurling, unfolding,
new and damp and wrinkled.

The old sloughs off,
in layers,
one... by one,
settling to the ground
unnoticed, undisturbed.

Reborn

My Pilgrimage

My first post.  

I have grown up around many cultures.  I have loved learning about them and seeing the traditions and heritage that these cultures bring into the communities I have lived in.  I have always had a deep longing to identify with a culture and to call it my own. To be able to say, this... this is my culture.  

This week was spring break.  I spent much of the week digging into my roots.  My Welsh roots to be exact.  Roots that I don't know much about. The roots from my Father's side of which he doesn't know much about either.  

My Mother's side of the family is Scottish.  I feel proud of my Scottish side because I have grown up hearing the stories of the ancestors.  Finding out about a "castle" that is in our family from way back.  Seeing the tartan, and hearing the pipes play. But I have heard very little about my Father's Welsh ancestry.

I am on a pilgrimage.  A pilgrimage to Wales.  To a little town in the Welsh countryside called Knighton.  3 generations of my ancestors lived there.  1 of those generations left and settled in the U.S. as part of the Mormon migration, specifically to a little town in Utah called Nephi where 3 more generations lived.  

So, this journey to Wales is a journey to discover the ancestors, the land, the people, and the traditions, as I uncover the past and listen to the voices of the ancestors whisper to me about love, and loss, and traditions and me.  

I am looking forward to the journey.