Unpacking…
Post-travel nostalgia. It’s something felt after every trip, especially when returning home. Coming back home after a trip always feels like walking into a still frame of your former life. Everything is where you left it — the plants on the windowsill, the cluttered corner of your room. My routine waits for me like I never left. The same job, the same commute. But this time feels a little different.
Maybe it’s the drastic shift in seasons — we left in winter and returned to full-blown summer. Trees that were bare are now lush. The air is warm. The days are longer. Something in the air has changed, and in many ways, so have we.
That familiar longing for the life I just lived still hits, but now it comes with more clarity, more curiosity. The question is no longer just “how do I go back?” but “what’s next?”
A really wonderful wave of peace washed over me on the airplane there — the reminder of why I work, and why I’m willing to make certain sacrifices to keep a life that allows for this kind of freedom. I may not have my own space yet. I might still be figuring out the career piece. But I get to do this. I get to see the world, experience new people and cultures, and come home feeling different. That’s a gift.
Travel always reminds me how privileged we are. To live this life, in this body, with this kind of freedom. To be surrounded by people who love me, who believe in me, who want to see me thrive. And then there’s the kindness I received in Bali — from strangers, people who had so much less than me but gave so freely. No agenda. Just genuine care. It made me reflect on the difference between helping because you expect something in return, and helping because you simply want to make someone’s day a little easier. That kind of generosity changes you. It stays with you.
One idea that really stuck with me is this: if you want a village, you have to be a villager. A lot of us crave community, connection, real relationships — but are we showing up for others? Are we giving without expecting? Are we being present without needing a reason? Real community takes effort. Going to the event, showing up when you say you will, reaching out just to check in. Being a villager means choosing to be part of something, not waiting for it to arrive.
Before we got home, Justina and I were talking about this idea that life is what you make it. So much of what we did in Bali — watching the sunset, trying new food, wandering through unfamiliar streets — we can do here, too. We can choose to bring that same energy into our everyday lives. To explore our own neighborhoods like travelers. To slow down in the morning and sip coffee like we’re somewhere far away. To take day trips, hike local trails, surf at the closest beach. I’m lucky enough to live in a place where all of that is possible — and yet I don’t always treat it that way. But now, I want to. I want to bring those rituals home, the ones rooted in presence and gratitude. Because the truth is, you can feel alive and inspired wherever you are. You don’t have to go far to create a beautiful life. You can have it all — right where you are.
