Living a Life Overwhelmed

I am woman of the world, at least that's what I tell myself. I was raised in Oklahoma, but I haven't lived there in the past 10 years. I know that if I went back I would feel as out of place as if I had just moved to Madagascar. I love the life that I have and I love that I get to move to knew places, meet new people, and really experience the culture in ways you only really can if you live in a place. However, I find myself sometimes feeling lost. Is my wandering heart, finally wondering if I'll ever find a home?

When I moved to England I was both elated and sick to my stomach. Elated that I was actually going somewhere. Somewhere new and exciting and foreign and all the words that describe a place that always seemed so out of reach. Sick to my stomach because, holy CATFISH, I'm actually about to move across an ocean. By myself. It all worked out in the end. I have a love for England that runs deep. It may be ironic that I am writing this on the 4th of July, the holiday that celebrates leaving the place I love so much behind. I love the chilly days walking through a village market. The smells of fresh flowers, and the vibrant colors of freshly harvested produce. I love the conversations I hear in bits and pieces as I pass stalls hearing patrons and sellers haggaling over prices of potatoes. I love that I spent so much time outside, even on the dreariest of days, walking from shop to shop, pushing a stroller, and daydreaming with my husband about our future and our dreams. I miss being able to jump on a plane and be on the continent in a few short hours and explore a sun soaked Rome, or walk among art lovers in Paris. England was a gateway for me. A gateway to wanderlust. 

Living abroad I also learned to be a more compassionate person. I learned that a place can be different, but that doesn't mean its worse. I learned to love the history and culture of each region I had the privilege of exploring. How butchering a phrase in a foreign language will get a much more positive response than assuming everyone speaks English. I love being immersed in the overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the extreme differences. Overwhelmed by new language. Overwhelmed by new places. I love being out of my comfort zone and having to adapt. I'm thankful to have been exposed to that way of living. However, overwhelmed is starting to become too much. 

I find myself longing for the simplicity that comes with having a home. The community of people I have literally stretches to the corners of the world. I find myself wanting a community that literally lives in the same area code, rather than on the other end of a computer screen. I miss my family, I miss grandparents, and birthdays, and weddings. I want something familiar. There is something to be said for having deep roots. 

I was blessed with the most loving and attentive grandparents in the world and when I think about their lives I think about the roots they had. Living on the same plot of land for decades. Raising children, hosting weddings, hugging grand babies, all with the same views out their windows. They seemed so happy and content. Is their way of life the best? Should I strive to follow in those footsteps? 

I want them both. The curse of traveling the world is that I have left a piece of myself everywhere. I will always miss England, I will always miss California's Bay Area, and one day I will miss Hawaii. I know that I will also, one day, miss the excitement that comes with moving every few years. 

When will enough be enough? When will I find my forever home? Or will traveling and continuing to experience that overwhelmed life be something my children and grandchildren will know about me? Only time will tell. I do know that no matter where I go, I can say, with much certainty, that I have lived!