My family and I just got back from an amazing vacation. Technically it was a business trip for my hubby, but he was able to take some extra time off making it a work-cation. We spent a wonderful 12 days together, visiting Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana. We got to see wildlife preserves, Yellowstone, a pioneer-living museum, drive the beautiful scenic Beartooth Highway, visit dinosaur museums, and more!

It truly was an awesome trip and the scenery was stunning. But… that’s not what I’m writing about here. That will be other posts, for other days. Today I’m writing about returning from our vacation. We were traveling back to San Antonio, from Billings, MT. It was a two-day drive. And for those two days, I felt sad, and a little bit lonely. It occurred to me that this happens whenever I’m off on an adventure. And then it hit me… BAM! I don’t get homesick when I leave my home, I get homesick when I leave an adventure. I get homesick when I return from travel. Because to me, home is the adventure.

I was in high school the first time I heard the term “wanderlust.” My best friend at the time told me it described me perfectly. It was true then, and it’s true now. I have always wanted to wander. I have always thought of moving, traveling, and sight-seeing as an adventure. It was exciting, seeing new things, new scenery, and especially getting into nature.

In reality, I’m a city girl, in that I grew up in Phoenix and have lived most of my life in major cities. But in my heart… well, that’s quite a different story. I’m a country girl at heart. I love wide-open spaces, and especially in the West. I love the beauty and majesty of the mountains. I love the prairie grasslands, the red rocks that decorate the west, and even the sparse and sometimes surprising beauty of the desert.

Many people value the security of a house and a good, stable job, and there is nothing wrong with that. But for some of us, that feels like a trap, confining and hopeless. To me, life is too short to be stuck in the same routine, same scenery, day after day, year after year. I’ve heard many people say they waited to follow their dreams, to travel and spend time together until after retirement. And sometimes that can work out well. But I’ve also heard many people say they wish they hadn’t waited because then it was too late.

Health and death don’t seem to care what our plans for the future are. 

I can’t travel as much as I’d like right now, and that’s okay too. We are doing what we have to do as a family, and that includes a regular job and a regular house. But that doesn’t mean I (or we) can’t dream about it. Because these feelings aren’t going away.

 

 

My dream, my goal, is to one day be able to live in an RV and travel. To be able to explore this amazing and beautiful nation. To meet new people and see new sites. To visit our national parks and historical sites. Will I get to do it someday? I don’t know. I hope so. It would feel really nice to not have to fight the wanderlust that tugs on me daily. In the meantime, I’ll just be here in my nice little house, living my nice little life, feeling wanderful!