About a year and a half ago I posted a bucket list. I imagined what I would do if I only had six months to live. Four things instantly sprung to my mind and in a very strange string of events I did all of them, within six months. It was a pretty tumultuous experience at times, but very worthwhile. I can now write another bucket list, free of old baggage, this time looking forward.
The other day I spent some days at the sea. Not any sea – but the place where I was born. I left it behind when my parents divorced and have only returned for holidays since. This time was different, though. When I got there and took my first deep breath, the fresh salty ocean air must have found a secret pathway to a spot deep, deep within me that had been lying dormant for a good three decades. It touched it, ever so gently. And suddenly I knew: I have to go back. I have to go. HOME.