Before I went back to Seattle for the week, I was thinking now and then that maybe one year was too much and we should have stayed shorter, say 6-9 months. What more is there left to do? But the short trip made it terribly clear to me that I don’t want to go back yet. I like it a lot here. I am reluctant to return to what seems to be a mountain of commitments and a lot more work. At the very least, I want to maintain the back and forth. Before I had a sense that I had a year here and there were things to accomplish – support projects, get the book together, learn Spanish – and that those things would be done at some point. Now feels more like the regular flow of life. I don’t try to accomplish anything particular in Seattle, I just continue living my life and meeting my responsibilities.
Topsy turvy. Even though I work for an organization in Seattle, it was harder to get work done there than here. I was “on vacation” there and out of touch, just like I used to be when I came here. It has very little to do with physical location, but the perspective of where is home and where is away. The foreground and background keep switching.
I think I want to make sure I come back for at least a few weeks a couple times a year to maintain that feeling. I was thinking I needed to have something here to force me to come back– a job, a company, a project. But now I see I don’t. I have the same life, the same job either place.