A follow up to my post The Hardest Part About Coming Home
Yesterday I was hula hooping in my pajamas with my Mom.
I was blending green smoothies for breakfast and driving myself to ecstatic dance.
I was taking steamy showers and snuggling on the sofa with my cat Tom.
I was reading stories to my nephew, sharing yoga with my family, and talking about dreams over dinner.
I was home.
Now I’m sitting on an airplane, an entire ocean away.
Knowing that if I didn’t force myself, I would probably never leave.
Because no matter how much I love to travel, it’s still always so hard to go.
And not because of getting on the airplane, though I fear I’ll die every time we take off or hit turbulent air.
Not because of the weight of my bag on my back, wondering where I’ll sleep that night, and not feeling like I have a home.
Not because I’m bound to butcher foreign languages and sleep in dorms with people who snore.
Not because of the cold showers or the overnight buses or the border scams.
Not because of fearing I’ll run out of money and have nowhere to go.
Not because of getting sick with no one to take care of me.
Not because sometimes I feel alone.
The hardest part of leaving home, is knowing that the people whom I love more than anything in the world, will never be part of the lifestyle that I love more than anything in the world.
That as much as they love and accept me, as proud as they are of me, I know that every time I leave I make it harder for them to understand me.
It’s knowing that the final days and hours and hugs and goodbyes will never be perfect enough to make up for all of the time I spend away.
Realizing that every time I leave, it becomes less and less likely that I will ever call this place home again one day.
And once I find another country to fall in love with, I know that I won’t miss them nearly the way that they miss me.
I know that I can walk away from our struggles and not feel the weight of them anymore.
Which makes me feel selfish.
Yet at the same time, no matter where I am, away from my family, I know that my heart will never be fully whole.
Which makes me feel sad.
But something within me that’s bigger
than countries and boundaries and space and time knows
that I have to keep going
I have to keep moving.
than sadness or worries or fears knows
I have to leave home.