Days 257-260: Re-Entry

Returning home can be as amazing as going away.

One of the many blessings of my trip was the ability to see and appreciate the things, places, and people that I so often take for granted in my every day life. The comforts of my home. The ease of calling friends and family members just to shoot the shit. My AA meetings, and particularly my home group. I was able to return to all these things with an open heart, filled with gratitude.

There was the jet lag too. The desire to run all over Portland and re-see the things that I hadn’t truly seen before, at least not with the eyes I have now. But, for the four days after my return, my time travel from one universe to another, I had to accept that in order to get out and do all the things I wanted to do, I needed to catch up. I needed to process everything that I’d seen and been through. I needed sleep.

So, I lay in bed, contemplating Ireland. And between my actual dreams and the awake, dream-like state I lived in while I rested, I was able to re-acclimate to home. Digesting as much as I could. Taking my opportunities to snuggle with my little kitty critter.

My therapist had primed me for my return. I was prepared to come back to the same Portland I’d left. And, I was ready to accept that I was different and that everything else, all the things I’d left behind temporarily, would be just as they were. I was also prepared to have to return to a less “present” form of living. My therapist told me that traveling is one of the best ways to be forced into living in the present moment. How true that was. When I was away, I had to prepare for what was right in front of me. The most future tripping I could do was figuring out how I would get to my next B&B or hotel, my next meal, my next destination. And, once I arrived, all I had to do was be there, to enjoy it, that moment. I only had the moment I was in and, it seemed so easy, so simple there. My ability to enjoy my surroundings was uncanny. But, back here at home, while my appreciation for things is far greater than it had been, it’s been an adjustment to have to plan out my time in a more methodical way. Things aren’t as simple.

Lars is away on tour with his band. And, his return this evening has been on my mind since my return. All the things I want to impart. The adventures, the lessons, the photos, the gifts. And yet, I still have to be mindful that he has been on his own adventure with his own set of stories. It’s not just about me.

So, as I busy myself with resting, endless loads of laundry, and reflection, I too have to remember that the things I have now, these new things that are so special and infinitely important to me, are just that, important to me. I can’t assign their value. I can’t make someone else understand, and I can’t expect them to know or feel my journey the way I know and feel it. And, as much as I want to share it, I know that much of this trip is un-sharable. It’s mine. In the most unselfish way possible.

So, I re-enter. As if from a trip to the moon. Hot flames against the outside of my space craft as I enter the atmosphere, stifled and cooled as I crash down into the waters of this familiar world I left behind. Accepting of the feeling, as I swim out into the life I left on hold, that everything, absolutely everything, looks different.

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