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After several months of no posts, I’m back. Why the gap? I’ve been in the process of switching airlines! I’d love to write a post about what it’s like to go through the hiring process, what flight attendant training is like, or some differences I’ve experienced working for a major airline vs. a regional so far, but I’m going to let those topics be because they’re really the airline’s business in the end. Now that I’m up and flying again, I know I’ll be back soon with more happy passenger stories.
In the meantime, the airline initially based me in a different city for the past month, which has given me ample time to reflect on what it really is that makes a place home. In my mind, there are three main reasons for living somewhere: the people that are in that place, what you do in that place, or the actual place itself. You know that friend you had in high school that chose a college based on where their high school sweetheart was going? They were a people mover. What about that friend moving for a job, or because there is more opportunity in the new location to pursue what they love to do? A doer mover. Then there’s the person that for varying reasons just wants to be in a new place. They want mountains where they used to see flat land, they want to get out of their hometown for a new experience, or they want to be surrounded by the sounds of a different language. They’re the place mover.
Of course, there are more layers to every story, but these three categories help me justify my own decision for why I am transferring back to Chicago. For so many, it’s easy to look at the beauty of the west coast compared to the cloudy skies of Chicago and wonder why on earth anyone would come back when they have an opportunity to experience a new place. That’s the place mover view kicking in, the view that I think we often see first when talking about the subject of a move before diving deeper. I want to keep pursuing the hobbies and lifestyle I had going in Chicago that I wouldn’t be able to keep up in this new place for some time. I sound to me like a doer, with a slight dose of people mover for the fact that much of my family is in Illinois for now.
Despite the reasoning for relocation, I think that the number one thing above all that actually makes a place feel like home is time. I only have 24 years of experience and not a lifetime, but in that time I have experienced the three different houses my family has lived in, three DCI tours, college, my semester in Italia, and now this past month. No matter what people were in each place, what I was doing, or where I was, every place felt more like home the longer I was there, even over the course of a few weeks in my most recent case. Time seems to be the cure-all that outweighs all of the other factors in the end, and I’m convinced that it could even make the most awful of places still feel like home eventually. That brings up the question of whether or not associating a place with feeling like home has to be positive, but that is something to ponder outside of this entry. In the meantime, here are some views from my month calling the bay area home:
View across from SFO in Burlingame
Taking a walk near Laurelwood Park in San Mateo
With a friend’s recommendation, I took a drive down highway 1
There’s something eerily beautiful about dark clouds rolling in over an empty beach.
And there was also something eerie about this picture, the way no one was around in the beach parking lot with the bathroom door swinging in the wind.
Crystal Springs Trail near San Mateo, the perfect running path