I Am Home, Part 1

I spent the majority of my adulthood struggling with 'home'. I moved and moved again, looked just about everywhere, tried in places - and in people - I never should have tried. Funny, it took leaving 'home' to show me the way. You see, through my recent travels, I have come to realize that I can create home anywhere. What used to be my weakness has become my strength. And what I want most.

I lived in the same house from age three until my parents' divorced and sold the house when I was twenty-four. I'd gone away to college and even moved to another state for graduate school, but 13125 Wanesta Drive was always home. It's where my family was, where my "things" were. It was the place where our traditions and my memories lived. It was also my mom's cooking and an old lab named Sheba who shed little black hairs everywhere. Above all, it was my safe space, the only truly safe space I knew. And then it was gone. My parents' impending divorce meant a for sale sign and lugging the antique coffee table that had been in our living room as long as I could remember up the stairs to my dad's new apartment. It also meant an "estate sale" and watching strangers haul away my childhood.

I began that day a child and I ended it an adult. A figuratively homeless one. Of course, I didn't realize that until years later, like twenty years later, and it took even longer to fully acknowledge it. After moving a zillion times, dating a zillion people, and battling a zillion demons, I once again found myself in an unfamiliar place, an unfamiliar space. This time, though, it was different. I was different. And for the first time in my adulthood, I realized that I wasn't homesick.

When I decided to go to Scandinavia in the spring of 2017, I had a sneaking suspicion that the trip would be life changing. I wasn't sure what or how it would change me - or how much - but I was dead certain it would. And it did. In more than two weeks away, I spoke to just five people and only one conversation lasted more than ten minutes. Friends were aghast. Wasn't I lonely? Didn't I get homesick? No and no. At no point did I ever feel lonely and, with the exception of a return ticket and a desire for clean underwear, I wouldn't have come home when I did. Thinking it might have been a fluke, I repeated the experiment the following October. While I talked to more people (I volunteered at the Stockholm Open, a pro tennis event), I spent every non-working hour alone. Once again, I never felt lonely or homesick. Ditto for my latest Scandinavian vacation this past Spring.

How could that be?  How could I be away from "home" alone for weeks and never feel even the slightest twinge of longing? How could I leave everything I defined as "safe" behind and not miss it, not crave it, not need it? It defies imagination, really. After all those years of searching, I ended up finding home in the one place I never thought to look. It took weeks of relying solely upon myself, organizing the chaos, and creating my own safe space to realize.

I am home.

Now I see it as my defining strength and what makes the next phase of my life possible. One day I will leave everything I know behind for more than a two week vacation. If my thoughts truly do become things (because it can happen), I will spend a good portion of rest of my life "homeless"...from the outside looking in. My goal is to travel and experience and then travel and experience some more. Stop for a month or a season or maybe a bit longer, settle in, then hit the road again. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Like a turtle - only faster - I'll carry everything I need with me - clothing, laptop, cellphone, and running shoes. As a concession to space and weight, I'll have to become an e-reader reader. Truly, the less you have, the less you need. As long as I have access to a washing machine on occasion (Clearly, I'm all about clean undergarments), I'll be fine.

What about friends, family, connection? For one, we live in a time of absolute and immediate connectivity. With the exception of places with no cell service (which are diminishing daily), I can communicate with literally anyone I want anytime I want. For two, if I've made a few friends on my short vacations, I'm pretty sure extended stays will garner even more. Within a short period of time, I could have friends all over the world. How many people can say that? What about deeper connection - girlfriends - and the like? Not saying I'd never want company or a home base, but it's going to take a unique person to embrace my extended absences, my wanderlust. And, really, shouldn't we all want that unique person who suits us completely? If she's out there, I'll find her. Probably on the road somewhere. If I don't, meh...I'm already home so...

I spent half my life searching and searching for a home I wasn't destined to find. At least not where I was looking. All that struggle and heartache, but thankfully I figured it out. Lessons learned, strength gained, personal power discovered. I am home. Damn.....who woulda thought?