There are those of us who like to explore, to see what is over that next ridge, to venture out into the unknown. Adventurers I believe they are called. They can’t sit still but must wander the globe in search of something new and exciting.
I am not one of them.
Perhaps youth gives us the curiosity to explore new places in hopes of finding some foreign answer to life. Is a beach in Bali any different from a beach in South Carolina? Is an open fired meal any better than what you can cook on your grill?
Even if it is a brief vacation to a foreign land, unless you have a tour package with an interpreter, you are lost in a world of different cultures and languages. They even use different money. A long list of stress from travel difficulties to lost baggage to health problems and all the extra fees, it is good to come back home.
And home is where you live. Home is where you store your stuff. Home is where the day-by-day life goes on. Home is more than a shelter, but it is where you have chosen to spend your life. The pictures on the walls and the plates and pans in the kitchen and even the rugs are a reflection of who you are.
Those photos posted with your dark glasses sitting on a sandy beach that could be in a far away land or down the block bring imaginary tales of movie stars or the rich and famous, only to collapse into reality.
The photos of kids playing in the backyard or a grill party with your neighbors or old wedding pictures are much more adored and cherished.
Wonder why no one takes pictures of working?
Yet home is what you come back to day-after-day. For whatever reasons you’ve chosen this place to settle down, this is your spot on the planet. If you have chosen right, all your essentials are close by. The store that provides you nutrition, the church that provided you spiritual fulfillment, schools within walking distance, plenty of close by entertainment and neighbors who cut their grass every Saturday and wave even though you have no idea who they are.
So as the story goes, I bought a house. A house not far from where I grew up. A house not far from where I went to school. A house not far from where I went to church. A house close enough to work I could walk there and back. I bought a house but a structure is not a home.
I met this woman and she transformed my plot of land. Today it is a sanctuary. Surrounded by walls, there is peace and quiet in the middle of an old 40’s city subdivision. The peace and quiet some wander far away to achieve for a few moments, I have everyday.
In the winter the trees are draped in snow and in the summer there is dappled shadows. The free-range critters are given daily buffets without interference. It is as close to a full natural environment that I can provide.
So my point is if this gives me pleasure, why should I leave my zip code?