It’s a strange experience coming home. Because as anyone who has ever left will tell you it’s never the same. Flying into Los Angeles I found my stomach tied together with endless ribbons of nerves tangled with excitement. Why is it that stepping onto familiar soil made my heart skip a beat? Shouldn’t the symphony of English in the airwaves calm my mind rather than fill it with noise pollution? But at the same time I’m making lists to complete all the intricacies I have missed.
The freeways spit me out and wound me around the familiar streets of my youth. I sat on the sidelines and watched as familiar characters moved between scenes continuing on with the show that I opted out of. My cameo was welcomed and long overdue but there was a heavy feeling of loneliness and isolation when the realization that this was no longer my home. There is a still an overwhelming sense of love and belongingness. I can navigate through the structured suburban streets with grace and nostalgia. A part of me will always belong to those rolling hills but I no longer belong within them and that’s a very strange realization to make.
I spent the ten days in California embracing people I have known nearly all my life laughing with my Dad as I completely missed the ball golfing (or more accurately making massive divets in the earth). I celebrated love and drove all around town, behind the wheel for the first time in a long time. Eventually taking a quick trip to San Diego to cheers the night away with the closest of friends. I only had ten days and while at some points it seemed endless and others it seemed like a nano second I took it as a challenge, how many times can you eat in and out in ten days? My answer is 4… Can I see all my friends? Nearly. Will I make it to the beach, you bet your bottom dollar I did.
As I stood upon the shoreline that used to be my front yard the sand shifted beneath my toes feeling exactly as it used to, yet incredibly different. A years time has caused the sea to swap the shells with moving tides and transformed the coastline entirely. And on that Thursday morning I began to realize that I am part of a generation of ghosting and allowing connections to fade into the sunset on a regular basis. We tend to ignore that true connections are extraordinary and take each other for granted. However, I was extremely overwhelmed when people took the time out of their days to squeeze in a few minutes to play ghostbusters, partake in beer-thirty and spend a night in my old stomping grounds. Anyone who takes any effort to consistently be present in my life through any type of communication is gold in my eyes because I cannot replace that genuine energy and kindness. So thank you for that. 🙂