|"When one is home, he dreams of adventure. When one is on a adventure, he dreams of home." Thorton Wilder Do you agree with this?
I agree with this—to a certain degree. It’s true that we seem always to be more interested in the other than in where we are. It’s easy to long for adventure when we’re home because it’s so different and we are remembering the disagreeable parts about being home. The same is true when we’re off on an adventure, having to eat strange food and sleep in strange beds when suddenly home seems so much more comfortable.
Right now, I’m in the middle of an adventure. I’ve gone to California because my brother and sister-in-law are having a baby. Like, the baby is imminent. And they have six already—two girls, four boys. So, here I am, babysitting for six (ages 8 through 20 months) while my brother and his wife go to the hospital—and I have to admit that I’d rather be home.
But I’m needed here and I love the kids (there are just an awful lot of them) and I can’t wait to hold the baby and I don’t want to go home. Not yet. But it does feel like my own bed would be so much more comfortable.