Photo: Per Foreby |
"There's nothing half so pleasant as coming home again." – Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
I’m in transit today, hopping the pond to Cherryhurst from
the UK following seven days outside of my comfort zone.
After consuming all the porridge (oatmeal), fish and chips,
other “pub grub” and English ale I can stand, I’m pleased to report that my
time was well spent for business as well as personal reasons.
I've moved around a bit in my days, leaning toward the adventurous side of travel when I can. A well traveled fellow – for my age, anyway, and by US standards certainly – I've been to roughly 35 countries for various lengths and circumstances in my 35 years.
While traveling (internationally, in particular) can be wearisome from start to finish, the view is usually worth the climb.
There is the heightened anticipation before leaving, a unique sensation upon arrival, and typically much to learn, culturally, in foreign settings – just a few motives for my continued enjoyment of travel.
The journey home – a traveler’s final destination – is as much agreeable as that which precedes it.
Usually haggard by this stage, I’m buzzing with energy (or is that espresso?), knowing that another peak was reached – and descended.
I’m enriched with what I saw and tasted, what I absorbed while on the road. I’m inspired by those I met, the lives they’re leading. I’m fortunate to know them, that we’re friends now.
As I make my way home, I’m reminded of where my boundaries are and when to be cautious not to cross them. I recognize a keener awareness of the areas in my life that deserve added attention and structure. Such is the life of an explorer, reaching new horizons.
Packed with perspective, I carry home a renewed sense of self-discovery.
Fulfilled, you might say, is how I approach my next destination: home.