I like to be home. I’m content here in my world. My things, my people, my rules. I smile when I want, talk when I want, say what I want, wear what I want. I am me, fully, and completely, and without any veneer of polite civility when I am home.
I like it that way.
Oh sure, I enjoy myself when we go out for dinner, or attend our regular weekly classes. I’m sincerely happy to run into old friends at church. I like to say hello to Ray, and Floramene, my favorite checkers at the grocery. All in all though, I’d rather be home.
Unless, that is, you’re talking about going farther than the 10 mile radius that makes up my usual public domain.
If it involves a long highway, or better yet taxing down a runway…
If it means a complete change of scenery and perhaps even language, then I am in. Fully in.
San Antonio? Yes, but let’s go further…
Hawaii? Oh much beloved, pink palace, yes. Or… further…
London? With your old architecture and double decker buses and history and tea and “mind the gap” bellowing from the underground PA system. Yes! Now we’re talking. Or perhaps… further still…
Sweden. Oh Stockholm with all of the above plus a whole different language, water at the end of every street, the scent of waffles in the air and oh, just every little thing the same, but different.
Or maybe Tokyo. Or Kyoto. I could get lost there and be so happy.
Each of these places I have known and loved. In each one, I felt most assuredly at home in a way that I do not only 5 miles down the road. What is that? What is it, that makes this hermit’s heart fill with wanderlust? I don’t know.
I suppose it has something to do with being a woman who was once a little girl who preferred her room to just about anywhere else. She only wanted to sit on her bed for hours and hours – home, yes, but far away in the pages of a book.
There is a kind of adventuresome aloneness in being far away.
Something to think about.
While I’m thinking, and until I manage to put another stamp in my passport, I will be home as much as possible, but also imagining new worlds with pen and ink.
(this little work in progress is a drawing is for my best friend, Emily. She has a new office in which she diligently works each day at paying the people who build buildings. I thought she needed some pretty ones to look at when her eyes get tired of numbers)