My mother and I were sitting at the kitchen table drinking a glass of wine. It was one of many glasses; we had stopped counting. It made me blush to see her so happy about my arrival. It was as if my absence had made us closer. She looked at me in the eyes and said “If I can give one piece of advice, be thankful that everything is the same.”
For the last two months and one week, my wonderful right hand man Terry-Dayne and myself set out on our first European adventure. It was a whirlwind of experience and emotion, with a constant flow of inspiration. As we meandered through the Swiss Alps and roller skated in Berlin, home looked like an empty pit, with nothing but familiarity and a job. We were in the world of the different and home would always be the same.
When you think of home, you know what to expect. You will come home to your dad’s lentil soup and your 15 year old Rhodesian Ridgeback’s strange coughing. You will go back to your old job, where the same customers ask for the same thing everyday. Everything is the same. Except you.
You have experienced a worldly adventure, packed with rich memories and bizarre stories. You got to wake up each morning and not know what you were going to see, or where exactly you were going to go. Your freedom was hardly tethered, and your creativity was eating a daily feast.
When I came back Thursday evening, everything was the same. Except me. I had a plethora of ideas that had been steeping and stewing, and wherever we went, the list had gotten larger and more exciting. I was fully saturated with inspiration.
After dwelling on my mother’s words, I realized that home is what you make it. Maybe everything around is boring. But it is also stable, and supporting. It is the perfect environment for me to begin to recreate the wonders from my travels in different forms, to write that book I have always wanted to write or to paint that picture I have perched in my mind. Without a place to go back to, travel is a different kind of experience. One that can be exciting and daring, with a consistent edge and uncertainty. But home is comfort and luxury that I will never again take advantage of. It is a platform for growth and experimentation, that many of us do not get to enjoy.
As I am writing this, my dad ask’s, “Is it nice to be home, Ella?”.
“Yes, Daddy.”