I miss traveling, I miss novel experiences, I miss diversity of peoples. I miss the tension that resolves into satisfaction as one goes from feeling totally displaced to feeling comfortable – going from completely at a loss to being “in the know.” I miss eating ridiculously weird food just so I can say “This one time I ate jellied sheep’s brains.” I miss being astonished at the unfamiliar beauty of a landscape.
They call it wanderlust. I have it. Bad.
I feel fairly confident that I will not only travel internationally again, but that I’ll someday call another country “home” again. And I not only recognize the value of the time I’m currently spending in the States, I am also thoroughly enjoying it. And I’m definitely enjoying the fact that the whole country is obsessed with pumpkin for the months of October and November.
So I readjust the load, balancing wanderlust with rootedness, and journey on.