I’ve been craving a trip back to North Carolina since the first day the high got below 70 degrees in Boulder. I missed the colors of the trees, the fall breeze, the forests, my dog, my parents, my friends, my car, and having the nice cozy house that I grew up in since the day I was born all to myself. I missed sitting on the back porch with my dog, a good night’s sleep, and a nice warm cup of coffee. This is where I’ve done some of my best thinking of all time. This is where I would sit and do the planning that eventually led me to the life I’ve created for myself today.
Now that I’m back, I find things to be different than expected. The bathrooms are being renovated. The floors have been redone with hardwood. The roof is shingled differently. My dog ran right past me and straight for his food as I walked in the door. I look through my list of friends in my phone and find myself hesitate to call. Most of them have moved away anyways. The rest know the Chris that I was two or three years ago, not the Chris that I am now. Something is different.
It’s becoming clear to me. I am changing, as is everyone that I grew up here with. My concept of home is slowly withdrawing from North Carolina. It’s moving to Boulder – and not because it’s Boulder, but because I’m there. “Home” is where I live. Home is the average of where I’ve spent my time in the last months, and who I’ve spent it with.
Home is something that has to be created. It’s an aura, and it follows your long-term intentions. It lives in the people that are close to you. It manifests itself in your blankets, whether they are laying atop a temporary-gone-permanent sleeping bag or the king sized mattress that you’ve woken up to for the last 20 years.