Homesickness

About reasons for traveling.

And something one can only find when you're gone.

 

 

Somewhere I once read or heard wise words:
There are two types of travelers. Firstly those who travel to escape: from home, from one or more experiences, misfortune in love, dissatisfaction in work and life in general. They hope to leave this behind them on a journey. They want to fill their head with other things. Getting to know or even reinvent themself.
The second kind travels out of pure curiosity. From lust to adventures and the unknown. They follow the urge to see the world.

 

 

Even though I believe that there is always something of the one reason to be found in the other, I always counted myself to the second category. I didn't resign my job because I was unhappy. I didn't leave Dresden because I wanted to leave something behind me. I was happy there. I was aware that I would miss my family, friends and my normal everyday life. Climbing in Säeschische Schweiz, excursions here and there, sipping coffee and wines together, being together. Yet my dream of a bike trip was stronger. It always lived in the back of my head and knocked, wanted to be heard. The desire for something big, new, unknown was once again there and instead of always pushing it backwards, as many people do, I decided one day: stop dreaming. DO IT.

 

 

In the original German blogpost I'm quoting a longer text from Béla Balázs. I'll only translate a piece of it here:

 

"But one thing is there, it seems to me, what one can not experience without going away, and yet is the deepest and sweetest of all experiences: the homesickness. Where is at home? Not necessarily where you live. And no well-being shows us where home is. Only this homesickness. Whoever does not know it, has no home. Perhaps you only go away to experience a home in homesickness?"

 

[Béla Balázs: Reisen, aus: Genschow, Karen: Kleine Philosophie des Reisens. Fischer 2012. S. 9-11]

 

 

And I went on a journey. I'm still on it. Also wanted to go to Greece. But suddenly there was that feeling ... A longing. Not for the unknown, but for home. The reasons for this are varied. Last but not least the weather and the dwindling summer (which was never really there for me) contributed a lot to it. Camping a few nights in the cold and wet are okay, but in the long run I'm rather a summer loving person. Especially since my sleeping bag has already seen better times.

 

Therefore I'm riding in the direction of home: Dresden.

 

 

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