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Thus, the final question I ask myself is no longer whether I will ever have that complete sense of home again, that sense of knowing I belong in one place above all others without doubt.I now ask myself how I can feel at home where I am at this very moment, in this place, with these experiences; each moment finding my way back home.My home town, which before had given me a sense of comfort and belonging, upon returning seemed stifling and bereft of warmth.I moved about my days feeling that something was missing but I had no idea what it could be.I have a pretty good idea of the sequence of events whereby we will get from here to there and I cherish this opportunity to head to my “other home” of Germany for an extended visit.And after being there for a while, I can’t wait to snuggle back into my bed in my home in Seattle.
I had sealed my fate the moment I had boarded that plane the year before.Instead, what I want more than anything is to have my favorite elements from each country right here with me now.I want to have an Irish pub around the corner here in Seattle, full of laughter and music and incessant chatter.I don’t think there is really any way to describe this feeling to those who haven’t experienced it themselves. It feels as if we are floating aimlessly on restless waters. What, exactly, is it that causes us to feel this way?Why is it more pronounced when living in a different country than just living in a different city?After all these years, I still crave the smell of burning peat in the air and delight when I hear an Irish lilt.But I also want to have the sights and smells and family and friends from Germany and Italy and France.What I have seen and felt and heard and smelled in each of the places I have lived has made me who I am, like a wine having picking up its surrounding elements.I would never want the clocks to be turned back to the person I was before I set foot on that first airplane.Yet when I am back there, I feel the pull to return here, the place I call home.It is as if I am living in a kind of suspended reality, never really here and never really there; restless.