I learn things about myself and my world every day I lift my head from the pillow. Every day.
But when I travel I am moved in ways good and bad that elevate my journey. I’ve returned from Amsterdam and here is what I have learned.
I prefer the country to the city. I used to be all about the city. The energy and great food, the people. Cities were where it was at, or so I thought. Things shifted this trip, and I learned that I could live in a windmill.
I no longer need the splash, the zipping buzz. I crave peace and green, open sky more than anything else. But, the food in cities is an experience I would miss. Maybe country life close to a city because I need curry by a window seat, steaming up the glass, at least a few times a year.
I like being an outsider. I’ve been on the fringe my whole life, but when I was younger, it was a nose to the window kind of thing. I wanted into the crowd, wanted the center. Years have taught me that being different, observing the current of people instead of having to keep pace is my spot.
Not knowing the language but trying. Being awkward to customs and forgetting that Holland has no idea what “an inch of cold almond milk” means because only the US uses inches. All of that is humbling. I like stumbling at my age. It keeps things sharp.
A girl can only eat so much cheese.
There is no limit to how many times I can sing Beauty and the Beast while walking along the canals with my youngest.
Flowers are magic. Simple as that, pure magic.
Chucks are not good walking shoes.
I could not love my people more. The ones with me this time and the ones that stayed home. There is no more room left in my heart. Life is better with people.
I need a backpack for My Jack so I can carry him with me everywhere. I missed him, and my soul needs his wet chocolate nose all the time.
Finally, coming home is the best part of going away. Every cool pillow, fresh vegetable, and plant patient for water becomes more vital during my absence. I know some people say, “home is where I lay my head.” Not me.
Home is the place I return to every time. Smarter and more grateful than I was the last time I locked the door and went out into the unknown.
My thoughts from the laundry room. My Bed.