In which I start to write that I am recently home after two weeks in California but then,
in a single hushed breath, I quickly realize that everything about that statement is absurd;
The concept of home exists in this funny little wedge in the human psyche where
a sense of comfort overtakes us. It's not always where your possessions are,
it's not always where your family is, it's not always in one place, even.
Sometimes you find home in slivers, scattered this way and that but
ultimately, just like happiness, home is where you choose to feel it.
If you intend on traveling for long stints, either expect not to find home anywhere
or learn to find it everywhere. I rather enjoy the latter.
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” – Mark Twain