What is it about “home”? Why are we drawn to it? What are we drawn to? Can you accurately describe, exactly, what that feeling is when we think of home? Do you have a sense of it? Do you have roots to a certain area, or are you a traveling nomad, making home wherever your head hits the pillow?
I’ve left home twice now. Each time, the promise of better opportunities, a better quality of life, a change of scenery, and a chance to start anew. The first time brought me to the “small town” of Waco, TX. Waco was hot, brown, and mostly unfriendly except for the great people I worked with. I lasted a year before home called me back.
I’m currently living the second time. As you know, I’m living my dream for the most part. Infinite climbing. Infinite mountains. Infinite beer to try. Endless miles of powder to snowboard. Once I “get sick” of Colorado, everything Utah has to offer is just an extended weekend away. Why would I ever leave?
It’s not home.
This place doesn’t have my childhood. This place doesn’t have old memories. This place has my new life; it doesn’t have the parts of my old life I cherish: boating, beaches, fishing (in the way I know fishing), hunting.
There are “reservoirs” here that have public beaches, but they’re not boat-only accessible, like an island.
I certainly can still watch the only two sports team I care about, the Packers and Badgers, but sitting in a room filled with people, all just as passionate about the game as I am, is incomparable to the lonliness of watching it by myself in my apartment.
I’ve heard the hillsides and valleys of Colorado explode in vibrant yellow in the fall, but it can’t be the same as the endless rolling hills of browns, reds, yellows, oranges, and purples of back home.
I can learn hunting laws and find public land out here if I want. I can’t fly my hunting crew out here and spend a week in our shack, creating memories never to be forgotten.
I could learn to fly fish, but I hate trout. I can’t sit in a boat with my best friends from high school, catching smallmouth bass and muskies while floating listlessly down the river. I can’t sit in the boat with my dad and complain about how we never catch any fish together. In the way we’ve done since since I was four. In that exact same boat.
I’m fully giving Colorado a fair chance. My job is amazing. I’m making new friends. It would be very difficult to increase my quality of life by moving anywhere else. There’s no reason to leave. I’m not even considering that option. At all.
But it’s not home.
Home is home.
Home is in the Midwest. To replace that would be very difficult. If possible at all.
Don’t Miss Your Chance
I was stuck in Corporate America for 9 years. I was miserable.
Then I took control.
You can too, and it starts right here.