Sometimes you just have to cross the street and trust that the cars won’t hit you. In fact, this is the only way to cross the street in China. If you try to wait for the cars to clear up, you’ll wait a long time, so the best plan is to inch your way out into the street and let the taxis and motorbikes go around you, like a river around a boulder.

I recently had to make a decision about whether or not to stay in China for another year. I had been thinking about it since January, asking the father to give me direction, sorting out my own motives for making a decision either way, trying to distance myself from everything that frightens me about staying and about coming home. I wish I could tell you that on the day the decision was due, I had certainty about what to do, but the truth is I was no closer to knowing than I had been in January. It was Thursday, March 15 (beware the Ides of March), and I was in agony as I hourly changed my mind.

In the end, I decided to come home, and it feels like I’ve stepped out into six lanes of oncoming traffic. Father, do not abandon the works of your hands.