It’s 5 a.m. here (jet lag) in Chiang Mai and I’ve already been up for two hours. Rain pours down outside and I hear the muzzled beat of a discotheque in the distance. Someone’s fumbling through a pile of bottles on the street below.

I’ll savor these early morning hours, because I know that, beginning today, my life will take on a different pace for the next month. This afternoon we have our first staff meeting for the yoga teacher training. Tomorrow I move out to the resort, and on Sunday the students arrive (!).

I landed here on Tuesday afternoon. Touching down on the runway, I took in a very familiar view: lush green mountains to the west immersed in clouds and mist. I always peak out the window to take in the view and glimpse the first house I lived in here 9 years ago (my alarm clock then was always a 6 a.m. north-bound flight).

Despite the 24-hour journey, I felt the same way that I always do when I arrive in Chiang Mai—that no time has passed since I was last here. Returning to Asia always feels like coming home.

I love the chaos in the streets that I know how to navigate with mindless ease, the piles of ripe mangoes in market stalls, the way that people bow in reverence during simple hello’s and goodbye’s.

In fact, being here brings out a whole different part of my being. This is the part that I have felt so estranged from since I moved back to the U.S. last year. It’s that part of me that feels electric and alive when I’m drenched, splashing through puddles from a spontaneous rainstorm on my motorbike. Or that sits on the floor naked and eats a mango with my hands for breakfast.

Sure, there are downsides to being here, like the pollution or the fact that I got a ticket yesterday while I was driving and had to wait in line at the police station to pay a mere $5 fee.

But mostly I’m grateful to have had so many opportunities to travel in my life. Travel has empowered me and shown me more of who I am.

Even though the flights are long and the preparations can be maddening, I’m so happy to feel at home here again.

The rain continues to pour outside. I think I’ll turn out the light and crawl back under the covers. Some birds just arrived and I want to listen to their morning song.

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