“Someday, I would like to go home. The exact location of this place, I don’t know, but someday I would like to go. There would be a pleasing feeling of familiarity and a sense of welcome in everything I saw. People would greet me warmly. They would remind me of the length of my absence and the thousands of miles I had travelled in those restless years, but mostly, they would tell me that I had been missed, and that things were better now I had returned. Autumn would come to this place of welcome, this place I would know to be home. Autumn would come and the air would grow cool, dry and magic, as it does that time of the year. At night, I would walk the streets but not feel lonely, for these are the streets of my home town. These are the streets that I had thought about while far away, and now I was back, and all was as it should be. The trees and the falling leaves would welcome me. I would look up at the moon, and remember seeing it in countries all over the world as I had restlessly journeyed for decades, never remembering it looking the same as when viewed from my hometown.”
~Henry Rollins
Something I could have written
I have tried to write something to this effect since I left home circa 1992. I may not have seen as much of the world as HR, but in my own ways, this resonates. I hope it does similar from my wife, spouse and life partner in adventure and failures and successes. I don’t know if I’d equate this to a specific city or where we have made homme in our family and friends. What I do know, is I am grateful that I understand that perfection is unrealistic as a human and is more of a destination than a reality. I am in a journey effort – adapting along the way as imperfectly as failures and successes allow. It is my journey of reasonable self-scrutiny.
