Originally posted at http://travelsmake.tumblr.com/post/132441414275/afterword.
It’s been nearly two months since I returned. I’ve been meaning to write something for some time, but could never quite figure out what to write. So I’ll start with what I’ve been up to since my journey came to an end. It seems as good a place to start as any.
There was a plan. In a week or two, I’d finish unpacking. I’d get over the jet lag collected on my flight across the Pacific, and the fatigue I’d accrued over thirteen months of near constant travel. Then I’d look into what to do next. Make a list of things I cared about, and a separate list of what I was good at, and enjoyed doing, and see what filtered to the top. In less than a month, I’d be back out in the world.
So much for plans.
It turns out that it is very easy to return home, and it is far too easy to stay.
I’ve been keeping busy since returning. Cleaning, mostly. Going through packages I sent home, and putting them away. Going through things I left behind, and deciding what to keep, and what to let go of. My closet was full of boxes I hadn’t opened in decades. They didn’t escape my notice. Cleaning out my closet. Putting away my things. Consolidating old pictures and files spread across decades’ worth of backup CDs and DVDs. Filling up new boxes to be sent to others, in the hopes that they might make better use of these old belongings. It felt right, and bordered on obsession.
After traveling around the world, I became very familiar with the idea of weight. What you bring with you. It isn’t just material. History. Culture. Expectations. So when I explained to friends that I’d been keeping busy by cleaning my room, and had been doing so for weeks, there was some understandable confusion. I didn’t have that much stuff to begin with, even before I made this journey. I spoke a half-truth. It wasn’t just about what I had. It was about me, too.
Now, there’s nothing left to sort through.
In a way, this was my way of preparing to leave again. I just didn’t know it until the task was complete. Wherever I go next, I know what I’ll take with me. What’s left here in Sacramento is what I’d like to keep in Sacramento, and what I’d like to return to.
That’s the thing about home. Home is safe. Home is comfortable. Home is there to return to, when you need a place to come home to. But home is not where I’m needed.
One of the things about traveling, for any extended amount of time, is that it broadens horizons. Some things I thought myself incapable of, I know I’m very capable of, because I’ve done those things. Possibilities that I once dismissed because of some shroud of impossibility, I now have no choice but to consider.
For now, I’ll make those lists. See friends. See family. Write. Play. Write some more. See what I care about. What I enjoy doing. But this time, I know what I carry with me, wherever I go. It’s a burden. But it’s freeing, too. To know just how far I can go.
Before I started this journey, I wasn’t the bravest person in the world. The thought of traveling, for any amount of time, was frightening. It was a fantasy. Something for characters in literature, or people far more courageous than me. But the courage that eventually sent me on my way wasn’t mine to begin with. It came from my sister. From the friends I made in Tanzania. From coworkers who had made similar journeys of their own. It belonged to friends who’d been abroad, and friends who moved to distant shores. This was their gift to me.
Now, it’s my gift to you.
But it comes with a warning. The knowledge that something like this is possible has consequences. You’ll never be able to view the world like you did before. There’s no going back.
That saying is true. You can’t go home again.
For now, I’ll wait to hear your stories. Your adventures. Your experiences. I’ll wait to listen to your stories of wonder, and pain. The relationships you’ll form. The moments you’ll share. These are yours to find, and yours to keep.
Impossible, you might say. But I know many people who’d disagree. And the vast majority of them aren’t characters from literature. Or fantasy. Just normal folk. Like me. Like you.
Until next time. See you out there, traveler.