Passport home

I was driving when I heard this and instantly zoned into it.

As a nomad/traveller/sojourner, the concept of home changes. It’s no longer the lovely feeling in a place that has your stuff. It’s the security, warmth in a moment in time that can be home; it can be that sense of love and assured fun that is in a person.

As I heard this I almost got teary when I thought about the people I flew back home and saw first or really wanted to see but didn’t. There was a time that all I wanted was my Godson and when I flew back about 16 hours I made sure I rested so I could pick him up the next day and show him that I love him. On another time I was more excited to hug my dad at the airport, thinking of it it still makes me teary as a daddy’s girl.

On the other hand there have been times when I literally needed my house, my bed and the security of knowing the grounds beneath the 4 walls didn’t move. That my foundation and stories built in that British house were still there for me to get back to. I kind of run from home sometimes and need to be away from them all. My love requires a recharge and short doses of them is good, seeing bae for a few hours before one of us flies out can do wonders for my smile. Having dinner with a fellow traveller between trips lets us catch up on all the new memories we’ve made and even covet some of the passport stamps and creases.

This song felt like what I want my loved ones to know, that you guide me back to this country and parts of me I may have quietened to fit in while abroad. Thank you, my passport home x

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