The Fly Back

Have you ever gone on an “adventure”? And I don’t mean the cute, Instagram version of it. I mean the kind where you’re excited, a little unsure, slightly overwhelmed, and telling yourself “this is going to be good for me.” Because honestly… the best part is usually the going. The anticipation, the ideas, the feeling that something important is happening. And then… there’s the way back.

I recently traveled for a conference and ended up surrounded by people doing really interesting things, linguistics, hagiology, and a bunch of other topics that make you feel like you should probably read more books. It was good. Actually, really good. Stimulating, insightful, the kind of space where your brain is like “yes, we are growing.” But… (there is always a “but”) the most important part of that trip was not the conference. It was the fly back.

Because something happens when you’re on your way home. You start replaying everything, what you learned, what you said, what you wish you had said (because of course… that part comes later). You think about the challenges, the ideas, the possibilities. And then, if you’re paying attention, you notice something else: where your heart actually is.

For me, it became very clear… my heart wasn’t there. My mind? Oh, it was thriving, full of ideas, plans, excitement. But my heart? Already on its way home, to the two people that matter the most to me.

And here is the part that is not very sarcastic (I know, shocking): at some point, you have to ask yourself, are you where you’re supposed to be? Are you with the people you’re supposed to be with? Is your life aligned with your heart… or just with your goals?

Because during those nine days, I was walking around with a full mind… and a slightly absent heart. Not empty. Not unhappy. Just… not fully there.

So yes, the conference was great. But the fly back? That was the part that reminded me where I actually belong.

Coming back felt less like ending a trip… and more like finding my heart again. And choosing, again, to live a life that is not just ambitious, not just productive, not just “impressive”… but actually mine. Messy, challenging, and full, but mine.