the international itch

I have a large bulletin board above my desk in my office.  It's filled with pictures of family and friends, cards I've received, race medals, a Wisconsin license plate, and my favorite poem in the world.  I see people who enter my office for the first time display one of two reactions.  The first is awe, as they scan the many places I've been and silently applaud me for putting all the pictures up in an office.  The second reaction is disgust and disapproval, as they roll their eyes and think this isn't a dorm room.  Regardless of the reaction, the pictures make me happy, and the poem makes me happier.  Actually it makes me nod, smile and muse a little. 

Its called "Where We Are," by Gerald Locklin, and it really summarizes... me:

I envy those
who live in two places:
new york, say, and london;
l.a. and paris;
hawaii and switzerland.

There is always the anticipation
of the change, the chance that what is wrong
is the result of where you are.  I have
always loved both the freshness of
arriving and the relief of leaving.  With 
two homes every move would be a homecoming.
I am not even considering the weather, hot
or cold, dry or wet:  I am talking about hope.

I love it.  I can't say that enough.  You know when you read something and you think "oh my gosh, that's me."  That happened when I first read this poem.  I immediately copied it down, cut it out and pasted it right above my computer.  But, because I know it's there, I rarely take the time to actually read it.  I read it this week... it was much needed.

It's funny to me how many of us still have the itch to go somewhere else for awhile.  We didn't leave that behind in college.  Last weekend I got to spend the day with my law school girl friends.  We don't get to see each other very often, and it's downright rare when we can get (almost) everyone in the same place for more than an hour at a time.  Shockingly, we all managed to have last Sunday free.  We spent the day hiking with our dogs and then sitting around the kitchen table catching up.  I was shocked at how many of us said the exact same thing, "I still want to go abroad for a little bit.  Not long - maybe a year or so - but I feel like I need to do that soon.  I want to come back to Colorado and be here for the rest of my life, but I just have this itch to go while I still can."

But then again, this poem rings true.  We forget the homesick element.  Do I like the idea of living internationally more than I actually like it?  When I lived in Spain, one of my most homesick days ever was Thanksgiving.  There are no pilgrims in Spain... and certainly no stuffing with gravy.  Eat your heart out America.