School is starting, and Martina and I have just returned from another fabulous adventure in California. We visited with many close friends and family, over ate, and enjoyed delightfully warm weather. Admittedly, that was most of our trip. We did a little mini golf, plenty of board games, and played with a little dog named Lexi. It was relaxing, and it gave us a chance to spend some time with Molly before she headed off to Jolly Ol’ London for her own adventure studying at University College London.
It was a fun trip, did it really have to end? Unfortunately. But that’s when I was struck with a seemingly obvious thought: it had to end to appreciate it. I’ve had this thought before, but not so clearly in such a long time.
We go on adventures, leaving home for the great big world, and we have a great time. We grow, learn, and ideally we come back better than when we left (realistically, we come back tired, sunburnt, and poorer, rather than enlightened, but I suppose those are lessons all their own). We come home to the familiar and the mundane, but don’t you appreciate it more? Your bed and your house, not living out of a suitcase, familiar streets and shops, and so much more. As we unpacked, I told Martina how much I missed the people we had been visiting and the good times, but that I was glad to be back to our bed and be in a place where I don’t need a GPS to find my way around. It’s great to be home, and though I miss California I look forward to leaving home again so I can have more adventures.
In short: I love going on adventures, but I also love coming home, which lets me gather strength for the next one.