Recently I have really been missing home, missing family, missing familiarity and missing Phill (my dog). Mainly Phill. I really miss Phill. I haven’t been missing him or home for any particular reason and certainly not because I am not enjoying my time away or what I am currently doing. It’s more, I miss the comfort of home. I miss Phill waking me up at six thirty each morning, I miss him guilting me into going for walks each day, I miss good coffee and food without sugar in it.
It’s a funny feeling to be so far away and missing home because prior to setting off on this trip I considered my life to be boringly normal. I lived in my little house with Phill, worked during the week, paid my bills, id maybe do something on the weekend or just stay in and blob on the couch but nothing was extraordinarily exciting or different. Yet here I am missing the familiar comfort of that routine, all the while knowing that when I get back to it ill be missing what I am doing now.
Due to this thinking, I have been left feeling guilty at different times during this trip. Guilty for spending a day on the couch, guilty for missing a day of snowboarding, guilty for getting sick and guilty for missing home, but mainly guilty for feeling like I am wasting time. Noone has explicitly made me feel this way, except of course myself. It is my own pressure and expectation to be experiencing everything and making the most of every opportunity all the time that has allowed these moments of guilt to arise.
There comes a realization, however, that between the Instagramable moment’s normal life has slowly set in and it is just not a reality to always be on massively exciting adventures all the time. Between exploring New York and New Orleans, between snowboarding as much as possible and fun nights out with friends and between planning the next adventures normal life needs to be and is being dealt with. Colds are still being battled and work dramas aris, flats still need to be found and difficult people need to be navigated, the washing needs to be done and dinner needs to be made. There also comes a time where you just need to spend the day on the couch or watch too much Netflix. It is still just life, just like at home only with worse coffee, more sugar, and no Phill.
Before I left my mum gave me some good advice “… that even doing nothing, while you are away, is still doing something …”. It’s advice that I continue to remind myself about, especially when guilt begins to set in, as it encourages me to find adventure in the ‘between’ times and relish those moments just as much. Because sometimes even dealing with ‘life stuff’ can be exciting, you never know who you are going to meet or what you are going to encounter along the way.
Be it at home or while traveling, every day is an adventure if you choose to take the time to enjoy the little things rather than feel guilty about what it is you are not doing. I still miss Phill, but it’s only five weeks now until I see him again and there are still plenty of adventures, big and small, for Damian and I to have between now and then.