It’s cozy, this being home thing in the place where you’re from. There’s always someone waiting at the other end of customs when you arrive. The house is filled with people that love you, and absent of anything lost in translation because they’ve known you forever. There is food in the fridge that you didn’t put there and always someone when you open the front door, even if it’s only your puppy dog. There’s big backyards to lay in the sunshine and clothes in the closet with memories of school dances. It’s all too easy to get comfortable here. But we all need room to grow, and stepping back out of our comfort zone is the only way to do it. So now it’s back a on plane to Paris, another continent and another language with no one in particular waiting on the other end. It’s not always settling leaving again, it doesn’t always feel full of love when you arrive, but somehow you manage to keep growing into it and filling the spaces. Sometimes it’s just what you have to do. See you again soon Paris….