[Molly Radio: Home, Pt. 1, Justin Jay]
This week, I came back to London.
I can trace so much of my recent unfolding to the last time I was here.
It was on the way to London in June 2018 that I met a stranger, talked to him for the entire flight in the dim cabin and found in him, a dear friend.
It was in a tiny room in a tiny flat on a dark night that I decided to apply to the altMBA, sure that I wouldn't be accepted - sure that I wouldn't be pushed to leap.
It was on the tarmac at the end of that trip where I sat in tears, desperately sad to be leaving and decided to challenge all of my ideas about home.
It was on that trip that pieces of my sleeping self started to stir in the mist of London mornings.
When I landed again at Heathrow, it all came rushing back. And I was confronted with the fact that the Molly Strong who just landed in London is materially different than she who came on a whim in 2018.
In more ways than I know how to share here, I have returned to something old. Something old, that isn't old. Something old that feels new again, because I am new.
The life, the beauty and the complexity that is simply pouring out of every moment has me quite breathless.
Sadness came when I realized: I cannot go back to her. She is safely ensconced in the past. But oh, how I have returned to her...and in that return, found the joy.
Returned to her bravery, her spirit and said to her: thank you for making me possible.