Place To Call Home

(Photo taken when I was driving through North Carolina, this past August)

I have had different people call me a "home body." I always found this really funny because I am a very busy and social person who enjoys being with people. Also, because the majority of my "To Do Before I Die" list involves traveling-

• Adopt a little girl from China. Ride a bicycle down the Great Wall.
• Write poetry in a Paris cafe. Sip wine in the Eiffel Tower.
• Adopt a little boy from Africa.
• Spend time in Greece. Especially the islands, like Karpathos.
• See Jane Austen's house in England.
• Ride horses in Montana.
  

And so on.  I cannot wait to devote time to traveling, and whatever opportunities I can get I want to take. Yet, I have still been called a "home body."

I can't help but hear the soulful voice of Carole King, "Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?" I wonder sometimes whatever happened to the idea of traveling, but still having a place to call home. Call me crazy, but after I unpack my suitcase from a wild adventure, I want to know I have a home somewhere.

Wherever I am, I want to be present there. As of now, I am in humble Lebanon county. Is there something better out there? Maybe. But the minute I start living my life for the next "better" is the day when I end up on my death bed realizing I never really enjoyed each moment of my life, but was always looking for the next experiential high. 

There is something to be said for being able to be in a place (at least for awhile anyway) and not be itching to get out.  It's not a sign of settling. It's mastering something not many can; contentment. 

The last highway is only

as far away as you are from yourself.

-Over The Rhine