There’s a lot of beauty in the world.

I forget that.

A lot.  As in pretty much every damned day.

And there’s a lot of love in the kindness of strangers. I think that’s something worth celebrating. Everywhere I’ve travelled, I’ve met people with whom I’ve exchanged a piece of myself. It’s a little tradeoff, we give the other something to remember us by, and they, in turn, give something of themselves.

I’m trying to remember this. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been anywhere outside of where I am and, for whatever reason, I haven’t felt very kind lately. It’s why I haven’t blogged in a while. I don’t think I’ve been too kind myself, nor with the people I know and love. That may be because I know them so intimately. I know their quirks; I know their bad days, their bad habits, their bad qualities. Whereas, with strangers, I’m facing blank slates. I don’t know them well enough to have anything to hold against them.

I love travelling because it’s different. Because I grow weary of the same sights and the same culture and the same streetlights and intersections and job and bed. I grow weary of the same people. The same words. The same interactions. I think we all do.

But this does not mean that they are worthy of less kindness.

Loving strangers is all too easy. I do it all the time. But I think, perhaps, that I am not so good at loving the ones closest to me.

That’s a disappointment.

I shouldn’t have to jump a plane to rediscover kindness.

Travelling changes your outlook. The wild hearts of the world inspire creativity and movement. Beauty. But part of being open means discovering the beauty in the mundane. If you cannot open your eyes and recognize the richness just outside your door, in the everyday, then what’s the point?

This blog is all about capturing moments in another place, and I can’t even capture the moment I’m in now.   That’s the danger of travel. The danger of encapsulating yourself in beautiful landscaped scenery. Everything else becomes average. It pales in comparison.

So I’m taking some time. Taking some time, not to fall in love with the world, but to fall back in love with my little town, and my family, and the people I call friends. Because, really, they are equally as beautiful, if not more so, than the wildflowers brushing up against the sky. They are richer than the sunsets. They are braver than the winds.

Life’s a balance, and I’m still learning how to tend the scales.

22 thoughts on “Postscript

  1. I enjoyed your piece because it resonated in so many ways. Now in my mid sixties I am traveling less and then only two places ‘of refuge’ where I feel a spiritual draw. I recommend the Irish poet Patrick Kavanagh and his sensitive dealing with the ordinary and banal. Kept up the good work! Peace!

    Liked by 3 people

  2. It’s like looking into a mirror and instead of seeing my face, i see my thoughts. You hav very beutifully you have penned every thing down, I have to thank you for stucturing these thoughts for everyone who has ever felt this way.

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  3. Well put! This is too often true, so it must be a weakness of us as humans! But they say, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder!” Maybe this is not only true of your spouse, but of your near acquaintances, and even your home town or neighborhood!?! I’m actually enjoying some simple things, since I am not traveling. Things like, putting up a second bird house, and within 24 hours a pair of wrens are going in and out of both to decide where to raise their brood. Take care.

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    1. Lovely! I have a birdhouse too, and I love watching the little ones fly in and out. You’re right, sometimes we just need to work on ourselves. I’ve been doing some house projects lately as well, it is healing in its own right. Thank you for your thoughts. 💕

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  4. About those scales, it takes a while. A lifetime probably. They are easily influenced, tipping one way or the other without our noticing. So the main thing is to weigh in often. What we do with the information, that’s another story. Im no model, so it helps to read your reflections. All the best,

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  5. While many of us can identify with your sentiments, I don’t think it is so much about places foreign or familiar as it is about overall “presence.” When you travel, you are more in the moment, aware, present, because you have to be. At home in ordinary life, mundane chores and minor concerns divert our attention from the moments and the people at hand. Furthermore, the pace and noise of contemporary life hardly fosters “mindfulness.”

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