This wasn’t the post I planned to write today, but sometimes it’s best to go off-script.
Today, for just this morning, I’m home and I’m alone and it’s quiet and it’s wonderful.
I’ve just polished off a bowl of homemade popcorn and a glass of sweet tea — yes, at eight o’clock in the morning. My body and my brain probably think this is appropriate because it feels like two in the afternoon. You see, I’m home for just a few brief hours after arriving home last night from eleven days of vacation out of the country. (More on that tomorrow.) After I hit “publish” on this post, I’ll go unpack and then repack so I can go into work, catch up on emails, and then hit the road to do some training in another city.
As much as I love adventure and I love the road and I love traveling (and I really love vacation), there is nothing like home when you don’t see it for a while. My traveling tends to come in bursts; it seems like when I’m traveling the most for pleasure, I’m also traveling a bunch for work, too. It’s both exhilarating and exhausting.
But back to home. Home is something I’ll always need and crave, no matter how much I’m away from it. I need quiet mornings where all I can hear is the hum of the refrigerator and the chirping of birds outside the window. The loud evening thunderstorm I heard last night that kept me from sleep but comforted me anyway, and the glass of ice cold sweet tea, and the homemade fresh-popped popcorn are things that remind me that I have a place that I come from, something that anchors me no matter how much I’m away. As an introvert, I especially need some moments where it’s just me, myself, and I and I’m in a restful place where I’m refreshed. And that’s what home is.
Today, H is for home. Welcome home to me, if only for a few hours.
And if you’re curious where I’ve been, stay tuned for tommorow. Here’s a hint: it starts with ‘I.’