That’s a question I’ll hear a lot in the next week and hopefully by Tuesday I’ll have a good answer, or at least one that won’t get me that funny “what do you mean” look. At around the 1200 km mark of our 1350 km drive back to home Steve asked me if I was looking forward to being home and I told him I wasn’t sure. It’s not that I didn’t want to go home or even that I wanted to stay at Camp Critter it was simply a case of not knowing where I wanted to be or more honestly, not wanting to be anywhere really.

One of my biggest, if not the biggest, character flaws is my ability to disconnect and how comfortable I become disconnected. It’s easy to simply pack up, take off for six weeks and say to friends “see you when I see you”.  After a few days or a week I become “comfortable” with being away and find emails and texting much more to my liking. I could pick up a phone and have a conversation but I would prefer to stay connected via my laptop and that has led me down a road that never seems to end. Why? Why do I find isolation so inviting, why do I not have a hunger to hear the voices of people I love? Why is disconnecting so easy for me?

After six weeks of being away most people (particularly women) can’t wait to get home and call their friends to let them know they’re back and reconnect. My natural instinct is no where near what a typical woman is inclined to do and I have this bizarre battle going on in my head that I’m a dirt bag, no I’m a recluse, no I’m a dirt bag, no I’m an introvert. Round and round I go on this mental hamster wheel until I tire of the whole ordeal but I still don’t pick up the phone, there’s still is no natural hunger to reconnect until…..

I finally get together with them and the hunger hits. That’s when I wonder how in the world I stayed away for so long and I instantly wish that I hadn’t gone away at all. Maybe it’s my ability to live in the moment no matter where the moment is happening or perhaps I truly am as messed up as I think I am, either way I know come next year it will be the same as it has been every year. Or maybe I will develop an appetite while I’m away instead of waiting until it’s almost too late. 

So, is it good to be home? After stopping in to see friends who I can honestly say I did miss, a lot, yes, it is good to be home. There’s no telling what I’ll leave with Cracked and Elusive next year that acts like an extension cord for me to plug back into after my disconnect. Thanks to you both for always keeping a light on.