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Do you know that feeling? You’re on an airplane, last leg before you touch down close to your hometown; your heart starts pounding and you feel like you’ve been gone forever – so happy to be finally “home”.

That’s how I felt when I returned from my trip to California. I couldn’t wait for those damned bags to show up at the baggage claim, rushed to my car and drove the 1hr back to Santa Fe. Glorious sunset in the back and snow-capped mountains in front of me. Bliss!

While on the road I had some time to think about my past and made a startling discovery: I had the same feelings flying back into Germany while I lived there and the same was true for my time in Amsterdam. But interestingly enough, I did not feel the same way going into California when I lived there. I spent 6 years in the Bay Area, but I think I never called that place home. I think my heart always knew that it was just an interim place, not a place to settle down, not a place to call “home”.