The big travel circle that took me to Los Angeles and through Montreal on the way back is now complete: I’m back in Shanghai after two weeks that felt like months away.
I’m at a loss to sum up my time in Montreal in a few words. It was interesting, certainly, and it was fantastic to spend some time with my family and some friends. (I didn’t have time to see all my friends, and I dearly apologize to those with whom I could not spend a moment.) However, now that I’m back in Shanghai, I’m confronted by just how homeless I am now.
Shanghai is a fantastic city, but I’m starting to feel exhausted at its furious pace. It took me 6 days in Montreal to notice how frantic life can be in Shanghai, and now I feel out of touch, like I’ve just been thrown out of a moving car and forgot to run when I hit the ground. I’m sure I’ll get back to top speed soon enough, but it does make me wonder why I run at all.
Montreal was great, but once I sat on the plane to Shanghai, I began to wonder how long I would endure a return home. The first month would be great, surely, with all the dearly missed friends I would see again on a regular basis… But once habit kicks back in, what then? Will I suddenly remember why I sought adventure elsewhere in the first place?
What’s left, then? Adventure in a new country? Perhaps. Perhaps I just need to go on searching, until one day I end up somewhere I really want to call home.
Or perhaps home really is where the heart is, and my heart is set on never settling down.