“I feel this pang inside—
Is it my soul trying to break out,
Or the world’s soul trying to break in?”
~ Rabindranath Tagore
Sunday was our first day back on the Coast.
Our clothes from our Mexico trip were sloshing around in the washing machine. We’d chopped and minced and cooked up a wonderful dinner and I was washing up a few dishes when I realized I felt a deep contentment. Were the fumes from the Sunlight wreaking havoc on my synapses?
Had I inadvertently poked myself with a fork? Maybe I was swooning from a tine-induced loss of blood?
I teased the feeling out a little further and it came to me. I was completely in love with the utter domesticity of it all.
Now. Anyone who has followed this blog for any time at all knows that every now and again I can be a teensy bit prone to feeling conflicted.
Sure enough.
I looked a little deeper and discovered this:
I LOVE being at home.
&
I LOVE to travel.
Hmmm…Houston?
There is no way around these two oppositional truths. One simply cannot do both of these things at the same time.
When traveling…I love eating different food, wandering about in the unknowingness, the around-the-next-corner exploration, the newness, the boring bits and the excitement. I even love the parts of travel that I hate.
But then there’s this…
I really love being utterly contained and puttering about in this little piece of territory that is currently demarcated as ours. We have only lived here for a total of four months, but it is very much our home and it is the menial chores, the dishwashing, the vacuuming, the laundry, that feel comforting.
I don’t want to give the wrong impression. I get as sick of dusting and cleaning as the next person, but oh, the beauty of preparing dinner, the sweet benediction of frying onions, the mashing of potatoes, well…my, oh, my that my friends, that is when poetry comes to life.
I wrap this home around me like a soft blanket. It is a comfort of routine and safety.
It is here where I know which aisle at the IGA contains the sesame oil, where to stop for the best coffee, which trails to take through the forest and most importantly, where I can easily connect with my friends.
This life is as unchallenging as pulling on my fuzzy slippers.
Which is precisely why we’re planning our next trip.
” I feel your pain” My sentiments, exactly!
Ha! I once read a book called A Sense of Place. In it, the writer interviewed a bunch of travel writers in their homes. All of them talked about how important their home was and all of them talked about leaving it to travel. Both forces were almost equally compelling.
We’re funny creatures.
I feel the same, Colleen, the excitement of planning a trip, the travelling, the discoveries, the customs and traditions of a new country – so much to see and to marvel at. I always want to learn more. But at the same time I love returning home, a place of safety and warmth. I think everybody needs a bit of both, getting away from the routines and go on exploring. It certainly, I think, make you a balanced person.
Catherine, I think too, that it creates both an increased appreciation for all our comforts of home and for all the newness of travel. It’s a win-win proposition.
Right this minute, I am enjoying being home SO much. Spring is in the air and it’s magical.