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Home, and Away

“Now more than ever do I realize that I will never be content with a sedentary life, that I will always be haunted by thoughts of a sun-drenched elsewhere.” – Isabelle Eberhardt

Well past dark, I completed the relocation process for thousands of fallen red oak leaves that had blanketed the front lawn with the muted satisfaction that comes with not seeing your finished project and knowing it will likely be covered again soon enough. This is fall, but it’s also folly to believe you’re ever done with yard work. The trees giveth in abundance, and on their own timetable.

The thing is, I like the chores of home ownership even as I contemplate my next move on the bucket list. Restless spirits are always moving, whether at home or in travel. I’ve never sat still very well. Meditation for me requires movement, and there is already an abundance of travel booked or in the works. Schemes and dreams of places near and far haunt me, it isn’t something that can be flushed out of your system like too much drink. Travel perpetuates, as reading does. It’s a positive addiction, trading mundane routine for more worldly experience. Many of us have nomadic tendencies running through our blood.

And yet we can’t imagine nomads raking the leaves and putting away patio furniture. Having a home base isn’t such a bad thing when it doesn’t dominate the conversation. One can happily manage home chores and segue immediately into the next adventure if one structures a life properly. We can have our cake and eat it too. As with all things, balance is the key.

And beat your crazy head against the sky
And see beyond the houses and your eyes
It’s okay to shoot the moon
— John Sebastian, Darling Be Home Soon

Like sharks, I suppose, restless spirits must move to live. Being fully alive isn’t passive: energy doesn’t rest. So we too should rest less. But fear not, for we’ll be home soon.

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