We're told that home is where the heart is. I used to think that was completely true as well, not even hesitating for a moment to think that it could be anywhere else. Today I found out that although one's home will always be in one's heart, the converse it not always completely true.
I got home in the wee hours of this morning after a long day of travelling yesterday which ended with an hour waiting for our luggage at Edinburgh airport. Not even our fellow German travellers, who are used to such impeccable efficiency, were as disgruntled as a bunch of tired Scottish folk standing in the baggage reclaim hall at midnight. What the experience did tell me was how much I enjoy being in Scotland with people who can understand me when I say 'ken' or 'aye' - 'I know' or 'yes' for my new readers from foreign lands.
I slept for about eleven hours last night and woke to the familiar sound of children played in a neighboring gardens, the kettle boiling downstairs and the soft ticking of my watch next to my bed. In short, you could almost hear a pin drop. The cacophony of church bells that have so dogged my mornings for the last two weeks were absent, ringing only in my mind which for a moment convinced me that Salzburg was just a dream from which I had woken abruptly from.
From that point on today, all I've been thinking about is Salzburg and how far from home it feels; and how far away faces which were familiar only a few days ago seem now.
I've also been looking around myself at the surroundings that I have returned to. Nothing much has changed in the time I've been away, either at home or at work. When I went into the shop today to get my hours I asked what was new but only the arrival of new card machines at the tills was of any interest - but not much. The same goes for my house as well, with the only three things that I was genuinely pleased to see being Mum, Dad and my bed.
I guess it's a combination of things which is making me feel like this: I've been on the go for two weeks and have not had a moment to myself - turns out I quite enjoy that; for the first time being away from home I did not really miss being at home, aside from not seeing friends and family; I met people who have given me a fresh perspective on things; I realised very early on in my two weeks away that I needed to change my mindset and I did that when I was away; and nobody back home has changed, nor have they just had a life-changing two weeks away in another part of the world.
In short, I've changed while nothing back home has. I was content when I left and now I feel discontent - simple really. However, I lived in a bubble for two weeks and now I'm back in what can dryly be called 'reality'. It's now my job to try and align things so that I don't go back to how was I prior to Salzburg while also making sure that I don't become unhappy in the place that is, and in a certain way with always be, my home.
So home is only where most, but not all, of the heart is. It seems that I left a little bit of mine in Salzburg which can't be such a bad thing if it means I'm a happier person for it. I now have a place which I feel as attached to as home or Edinburgh and that's a nice feeling that I'm likely to embrace for a long time to come.
I hope you've enjoyed tonight's burst of posts and I'm glad to report that I'm really enjoying my writing again - yet another good thing to come out of my time away.
Martin.
