“No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rest his head on his old, familiar pillow”
Us, travellers, we fight and complain, we dream and work hard to create a way to leave our home behind for a journey that is unknown to us, yet it appeals enough that we can’t wait to leave the familiarity and comforts of home.
Suddenly the home that has accommodated our dreams, the home that we have found the comfort to fight the disillusions of life, becomes an uncomfortable presence in our lives. You set your mind on a journey that will take you far away and so home becomes a prison, a space that draws limits to your ambitions of adventure.
And you set off on an exciting journey promising to yourself not to look back, bright is the future, as the plane continues to fly getting you closer your dreams, home starts becoming blurry in your mind, a far away place that is becoming less and less relevant.
Distance feels good.
Every traveller is different and yet we are all so similar. While there is a timeframe that differs from person to person, I have found that on our dream journey to nowhere full of days filled with experiences, our blurry home becomes less blurry, not so much the place that we ran away from but the place that bring us comfort to think about.
When the trip is long, your body aches with tiredness, the mattresses on the road are uncomfortable and the world seems ungrateful, then home is where you wish you could be. You close your eyes and you tell yourself that the comforts you left behind were not that bad after all, that routine can provide some sense to your life without killing your dreams and generally, life wasn’t so bad as it looked then.
In the distance, I could almost feel home when I closed my eyes and let my heart wander back to the familiarity I left behind Why I never felt like this when I could touch, live and enjoy home by being at home? Does really distance makes the heart grow fonder?
I have recently returned home from my trip and as I’m writing these lines, I wonder if I’m yet home