Finding Myself AgainHave you ever gone on a trip somewhere and forgot what home was like? I mean a real vacation where you get to truly relax and actually breathe. I love those trips.
Imagine walking down a lowly highway after your car broke down. It’s 97 degrees outside and the only shade is your hand tiredly held above your head. The long walk to the nearest service station seems to take days, and you feel like you swallowed the sun. At this point, your car seems so trivial because all you can think about is how thirsty you are and how unfair life is. When you enter the service station, the first thing you grab is a chilled bottle of water. The sound of the pressure releasing and the seal being cracked are like choirs of angels singing praises in the heavens. The first gulp hits you like a tidal wave of ice cold bliss. It feels like icicles are forming down your throat. What a magical feeling; all because of something so simple. This is my vacation.
I felt like this on my vacation. I love trips that feel like a cool breeze on a hot summer night. I want to forget everything that I forgot to do. I want to be someone new.
But when I come back, I’ve forgotten who I am. Life hits me like a charging bull with its horns of bills and its hooves of work. I am pierced by the credit card company and trampled by my boss. Trying to get up I’m hit by dirty clothes and kicked by dirty dishes. Tattered and bruised I crawl into bed to recover from the woes of life. I remember now. As I stare at the ceiling and glance at the clock I remember who I am. I remember how life is on planet earth. I’ve found myself again. I’ve been thrown back into the ocean and I’m treading water again. “Just stay afloat,” I tell myself. I hope that tomorrow I’ll wake up on dry land where I can breathe and look out over the great sea and not feel the need to cross it. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be on vacation again.
