As an adventurer, I am usually attracted to jobs, opportunities, locations where I am, for the most part, surrounded by like minded people-people who have done all sorts of cool things that I would like to do and been all sorts of cool places that I've added to my travel to-do list. But then I come home to unpack and repack to my family, the wonderful not-quite-as-adventurous-as-I-am people that they are and all that comes to a screeching halt. I spent the week before I got home hiking across every National Park in the state of Utah plus the Grand Canyon. When I got home, my feet still were itchy and I felt the need to keep moving, keep hiking, keep exploring. I remember a similar feeling coming home from the end of AmeriCorps last year as well. I had this huge desire to sleep outside under the stars and buy camping equipment, to put some more miles on my hiking shoes. All of this is pretty contrary to my first instinct so when the mood strikes, I feel the need to capitalize. It felt then and feels now weird to stop, weird to sit, weird to have nothing to do. Moral of the story: looking up hiking trails in Nebraska is really a moot point.
I think that's part of the reason I feel like I have a hard time connecting with people when I come home. I mean really connecting. Their lives have continued just as much as mine during the times I've been away. And I must admit that I'm guilty of forgetting that sometimes. Just because your address remains the same doesn't mean your life has. These people are my family and I love and appreciate them more than anything, but I've been gone so long and been so all over the place for the last few years that sometimes I feel like they don't really know me at all. Sure they are able to spout off a few words about what it is I'm doing now in the family Christmas letter, but I fear I've done a bad job at staying connected with these people whose roots have enabled me to have wings.
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