For as long as I can remember I’ve been homesick for a place I wasn’t sure existed. I’ve constantly moved around, hoping to accidentally stumble on the place to call home. 16 moves, 3 countries and 10 years later, I’ve finally found it.
I left South Africa in 2005 and relocated my life, a piano and 2 boxes of books to Dorset, England and set up a life for a few years. During that time I made 2 trips to Scotland and both times it felt like I’d gone home. My DNA seems to unravel on the shores of Loch Ness. I become an emotional blithering heap of crazy when I stand next to that Loch.
One of my pet projects in 2015 was to do my family tree. I managed to trace some branches on my Dad’s side back to the late 1500’s. There are strong ties to England, Wales and Ireland. The only link I couldn’t find was to Scotland. The one place that feels like home. Oh the irony….
I got fed up with life in England and the plan was to relocate myself to Edinburgh but then life got in the way. I headed west instead of north and ended up in Chicago in 2010. Because that’s the same…
I’ve been a fish out of water ever since. On a whim I booked a trip to Scotland for my 2 week vacation this year. The urge got to the point where it was go to Scotland or go insane. Scotland seemed like the cheaper alternative. So I went. Home.
For 2 blissful weeks order and balance were restored and life flowed effortlessly. Then the hourglass ran out and I had to put my butt onto a stupid-o-clock flight out of Edinburgh. I’ve been homesick ever since.
Where there was order there is now chaos. Where there was sense there is now confusion. Total mayhem has replaced the mental balance. I know where I need to be and it’s going to mean rearranging my entire universe to get back there. So be it.
On Friday, November 13, 2015 I stood next to Loch Ness and promised myself I would be home in 1 year.
My balance and bliss need to be restored. I have no idea how to do that but I’m game to figure it out on the road back home.