Well we are here. Back home. In the land of haggis and bagpipes (neither of which I have ever seen much of here). And it all feels very....mundane, domestic and, for lack of a better word, normal. I'm not sure why this is. It should feel exotic. It's been six years.
I don't feel that fluttery feeling in my chest at the sight of a castle or the incredible landscape. But I'm not here to connect with the history and beauty of this country. I don't even get the butterflies in my belly at the thought of seeing folks I haven't seen in years. It all feels very natural and as though no time at all has passed. But I'm not entirely here to reconnect with those people either.
I'm here to find my family. To settle in to a few solid weeks of soul nourishing adventure with the three people my life orbits around. To build a foundation of common experience that will soak into our bones and become part of who we are as a whole. It's unifying. To do things together that no one else will have in common with you. That is what I seek. That is what I am hungry for. And I felt it happening already as I arrived at the airport and was madly sending my last few texts before I was cut off for the next four weeks. I wasn't very engaged in the activity. My adventure had already begun and the pull to my family was much stronger than my tether to my life at home.
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