After 8 years of living on the East Coast, I went home to Washington state for the summer. Many people have told me that I have lived out here long enough to start calling Maryland my home and, in some regards, that may be true.
I have a great job...great friends...
This is a great place to travel and take pictures...
...however...
The home of my soul is...and always will be the Pacific Northwest.
See, it might be different if I were just homesick. If I just missed my family and friends. A particular city. A certain coffee house. That one special thing that you can only get in that one special place.
But what I feel goes deeper than that. I don't just miss people, places or things...I miss a way of life. My entire being yearns for this way of living life. A way of life that involves elements that are non-descript and unspectacular on their own...elements that can be found just about everywhere...yet when combined produce a result, a manner...a rhythm that is distinctly exclusive to the Pacific Northwest. My heart beats to this rhythm. But this rhythm (and hence my heart) is very much out-of-sync in the place I now find myself. And there are days, like today, where it seems as though I am clinging to the rhythm of my heart as the frantic pace of life threatens to overwhelm me with it's powerful flood. As it hurls to-do lists, project deadlines, appointments...waves of busyness laced with futility and the occasional flash of panic...
What I need is a good pair of ruby slippers...
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