Today I am jet-lagged even though I only traveled through two time zones. I'm not sure whether to think "I woke up at 5am which would equal 3am here in Colorado," or "it's 9:30 which would be 11:30 in Vermont." Either way I'm tired, but I showered in a beautiful non-communal bathroom and am about to sleep on one of the world's most comfortable beds (I think this one is third best. The first is in Mexico City and second is also in Colorado at a different house.)
It's crazy to think that every break in the last two years have put me in a different place. The amount of places I've been blessed to visit are getting close to uncountable. This morning I read a post from my teacher about displacement and I wondered if I even count as displaced. Where was I displaced from? I don't think I really belong anywhere, and I don't think there's anywhere where I don't belong. I find a new place and I love it. I guess this is a part of who I am, who I became through a series of chipping moves that have taken me all over.
Yeah, it's hard and sometimes I complain and wish it was different. But in reality I would not want it any other way. I hope my parents know how grateful I am that they've taught me to belong in every part of this world. This world is not my home, but I think it's sort of a copy, or a shadow, and I love all of it, even if sometimes I forget to love it.
But I will say one thing. While I always find an attachment to the places I visit- there's always something about Colorado. The smell of sage. The lit up cross on the mountain. The blue green pines. The wildlife. The flowers. The red rocks and pink sand. This place fills my lungs with air even if I know in reality the altitude is probably taking my breath away. (I'm making sure to keep my inhaler near. No more asthma attacks this year.)
Colorado, this little mountain town specifically, give "home" another meaning which I am almost afraid to pay attention to. This is the place we always come back to. The place that waits for me with arms open in the form of an unbelievable blue sky. No matter how long I'm away coming to Colorado is always coming back. It's like laying my head down on that old pillow in my room after a long trip. Just in this case the pillow is not mine, nor the room, and the trip lasted for more than a year.
Still, this is my coming back. This is where I'm safe, and the closest I will ever know to coming home.
It's crazy to think that every break in the last two years have put me in a different place. The amount of places I've been blessed to visit are getting close to uncountable. This morning I read a post from my teacher about displacement and I wondered if I even count as displaced. Where was I displaced from? I don't think I really belong anywhere, and I don't think there's anywhere where I don't belong. I find a new place and I love it. I guess this is a part of who I am, who I became through a series of chipping moves that have taken me all over.
Yeah, it's hard and sometimes I complain and wish it was different. But in reality I would not want it any other way. I hope my parents know how grateful I am that they've taught me to belong in every part of this world. This world is not my home, but I think it's sort of a copy, or a shadow, and I love all of it, even if sometimes I forget to love it.
But I will say one thing. While I always find an attachment to the places I visit- there's always something about Colorado. The smell of sage. The lit up cross on the mountain. The blue green pines. The wildlife. The flowers. The red rocks and pink sand. This place fills my lungs with air even if I know in reality the altitude is probably taking my breath away. (I'm making sure to keep my inhaler near. No more asthma attacks this year.)
Colorado, this little mountain town specifically, give "home" another meaning which I am almost afraid to pay attention to. This is the place we always come back to. The place that waits for me with arms open in the form of an unbelievable blue sky. No matter how long I'm away coming to Colorado is always coming back. It's like laying my head down on that old pillow in my room after a long trip. Just in this case the pillow is not mine, nor the room, and the trip lasted for more than a year.
Still, this is my coming back. This is where I'm safe, and the closest I will ever know to coming home.
Ah! You are lucky to be travelling to so many places. Many don't get the chance(people like me, for instance XD)
ReplyDeleteAnd this was written so beautifully! You make me want to visit Colorado and see what you are talking about!