Where the heart is

You probably noticed last week's blog posts were a little less frequent than usual. That's because I was typing while visiting family in my home state of California. Pretty sneaky, huh?

Believe it or not, the trip marked my first pilgrimage home since moving to Columbus exactly three years ago. I took a long time scheduling the trip partially because of the unconventional work schedule that comes with journalism.

But also, I hate the fact that my current life setup requires me to regard two places on opposite sides of the country as home.

So I usually block many cross-country attachments out of my mind, convincing myself that my ties are confined to where I am RIGHT NOW and everything else is just a vacation destination.

But when I see my family...when I visit places that used to be daily stomping grounds...I can't help but question whether I've made the right decisions and ended up where I'm supposed to be.

Saying goodbye never gets any easier. Even after exchanging optimistic "I'll be back soons."

With a week of vacation under my belt, I packed up my suitcase, hit the sauna one more time and flew back to Georgia.

Once again, I was traveling from one concept of home to another -- and experiencing the predictable swirl of emotions. Fear. Anxiety. Doubt.

And then, a slight twinge of satisfaction.

After all, two open doors are a whole lot better than none.