The past few days I’ve headed back to my hometown, after a few months absence, to visit the family. I’m not saying I’ve headed home, because I think home is two places at once: where you place your hat (head -> mind) and where you nurture your feelings (heart). In other words, I feel like I’m home to my self, and for this reason I didn’t start this reasoning claiming I’d headed back home… because I never quite leave home, in the sense I perceive it.

All the while, as I travelled back to the place where I was born and raised, I could not keep myself from thinking… It’s amazing how old things get renewed, after just a short absence. Everything looks fresh and sparkling, and nothing seems dull as it sometimes did, when I roamed around the same places all over again. In all truth, this is probably one of the greatest things about travelling – getting back to where you came from with a freshly renewed sense of perspective.

home is where your heart's at?

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