Agora mornings are some of the best: mountain spring bucket baths, sun spilling over snow caps, and chai after chai after chai.
We’ve spoken a great deal about joy and happiness here; really, it feels only natural to do so. The fulfillment here is tangible in the chapatis we flatten (totally ineptly but with great zest) and in the fields we till with families.
Nightly conversations always seem to circle back to this question of happiness—not just how we maintain it but also how we define it. We are still living these questions as they’re meant to be lived: down Himalayan paths and communicating through the universal language of laughter.
Whatever happy is, I think that is what we are right now. Spirits are as high as the crows that dot the skies.
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