It’s certainly a hike, getting from there to here, but well worth it. The crystal-clear flowing water of the nearby stream reflects the purification of the soul brought upon by the journey. Purification, however, doesn’t last forever, as the human spirit constantly craves new challenges; new adventures.
Soon it’s time to come home. To take the lessons learned from your expanded horizons and insert them into your daily life. This in the hope that life ceases to become the daily grind and instead becomes a daily exploration of the little things. A kind word here, an instance of artistic order there, and being surprised by the good nature of a group. These are little things that contribute a net positive to an essentially flawed world.
All of us, however, are not blessed with that home in a traditional sense. The world of chaos does not end once the front door is closed, despite searching high and low for that ever elusive sense of permanence. The adage, “home is wherever you happen to be,” does you no good if you define home as a place. Since relocation is such a prominent theme in so many people’s lives, my only conclusion is that home is not a place but a state of mind.
It may not even be the people you’re with, because people move. On accident. On purpose. It doesn’t matter. The closest we can come to home could, very easily, be the ability to objectively cope with your situation and be at ease with your location, situation, or condition. To make permanent the understanding that even the mightiest of adversities are not permanent, and to know that even 70 years is undefined when compared to existence eternal. A true home lies ahead, not behind.