“Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.”
Oliver Wendell Holmes
I find myself thinking of all the places my life has taken me. I’ve had great experiences in each city I’ve called home. Made amazing friends, had favorite spots, unforgettable experiences and jobs I loved. Each city has come to represent a part of myself discovered there. The long stretches of highway between them: the emotional growth that led from one to the next. I’m lucky to have had such an adventurous life.
And while those experiences were all made unique by the absence of the things I’d left behind in the city before it, these days I often find myself wishing all three cities were one. My dreams tease me with this scenario every night. I could spend the day working at Longtail, go have dinner with my family and then wander Whyte Ave that night with all the friends I’ve made over the years, co-mingling as though they’d all known each other all along.
Bridges would arch into the sky, connecting segments of my life so long divided. Skylines would merge into the grand horizon that my experiences had shaped, no longer confined to memory. Everything would be perpetually “here”, and everyone would be inherently “together”. And as the sun set over this metropolis, I’d know for the first time, I was home, undivided.