I woke up this morning in a friends home and the silence was unnerving. I spent the evening there to give him comfort through a hard time. As I was doing my morning ritual of checking my sugar, brushing my teeth, getting dressed, etc. I found my mind was oddly quiet. That doesn’t happen often. There is usually a barrage of information and ideas running through my head that never give me peace. I felt a sense of serenity. As I left, and heard the soft click of the lock, my mind returned to its usual state of non-stop thoughts invading my personal universe.
As I drove the streets of Tarpon begging for a break from the crap that floats through my head, I decided to run some errands that I missed as part of my routine when I lived in Palm Harbor. Stopping at the bank to make a credit card payment, popping into the vegetable stand that has the best and most affordable feta cheese, swinging by Walmart to return something and ending the route with a gas up at the Hess station on 19 off of Nebraska Road brought back memories of my Saturday morning routine. I realized at that moment how much I missed living in Palm Harbor and how much I missed close access to my friends.
I’ve always wondered how accurate the saying of „you can’t go back“ is. Through the years, friends have pointed out that when you leave a place for any length of time and try to come back that things change too dramatically for them to be the same. I agree that things change, but the heart belongs where it feels at home. Trying to be anywhere other than that place is like trying to put a square peg in a round hole.
When I drove up to my little artist loft in St. Pete, I realized how much I loved what it had to offer and how it helped to shape who I am today. I’m grateful for that. I’ve met some amazing people and experienced some pretty profound changes, but the truth is, it didn’t feel like coming home. It’s been a temporary place to transition to the next place I’m supposed to be. The question is…where will that be.
That is all!