Wherever you go, there you are.
A former therapist of mine used to remind me of that often. And when that phrase popped into my head today, I thought of him and of all the times I dreamt of escaping to somewhere new.
I'd been leaning up against a brick wall, sitting across from a friend in a chair that reclined too much, or maybe not enough. It was hard to tell, since we were sat at a small white table catching up over coffee, taking turns leaning in and resting on our elbows while the other person recapped all of their life changes from the past two years.
He talked through his upcoming move and getting ready to start grad school, and how he hadn't expected to be so ok with coming back east. I smiled and talked about my relationship with this place and how it's changed... how I'd only planned on passing through when I moved back.
That was five years ago.
It was his turn to lean forward, so I pushed off of my elbows and sat back—sort of reclining, sort of lounging against a brick wall in this place I don't dream about escaping from anymore.
Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
204/365
Do you ever dream of starting over somewhere else? Why not do it where you are now?
onward.

For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.