Much as I adore where I am at any given moment, I’m not above reminiscing about and longing for other places I’ve enjoyed, or fantasizing about ones I’ve yet to try even in the midst of the current Happy Place. It’s not a matter of comparison, of course, just that persistent tickle at the back of the mind that everyone suffers who has ever been two places–opposite ends of the couch or of the world–that are both pleasing and desirable for their own reasons.
So I can sit in a ray of gilt sunshine, in a high-backed soft chair, sipping cool water and feeling quite contented–yet my brain keeps flitting around, from Praha to Portland, from Boston to Berlin, from San Juan Viejo to San Antonio. In my heart, I may be tucked up in a mews in Wexford or striding along the West Side to find a small concert venue after dark in New York. Perhaps inhaling the dazzling steam of glorious Indian food in a surprise find restaurant in Oslo, watching the koi slide through their semi-tropical pond under the snow-frosted glass pyramid of the conservatory in Edmonton or testing the tenderness of lovingly handmade pasta in a cozy family ristorante in Bolzano.
Wherever I may be, my thoughts will always drift. It’s not the least a sign of dissatisfaction or discontent, but rather that I’ve found delight and happiness in such a wide variety of places that they all compete for attention even (or perhaps especially) when I am full of well-being. There is so much beauty to be enjoyed in the world and there are so many great sensory experiences to be had that the soul grows restless for them.
Much as I like my reminiscences and the memories of all of those fantastic places I’ve journeyed, the astonishing and dear people who have welcomed me there and introduced me to each place’s peculiarities and pleasures, and the thought of all of the songs, foods, walks, sights and adventures that have enriched every one of those times, I am always hungry for more. The sweet sense of something marvelous that’s yet-to-come is as poignant and piquant as the promise of any other sort of romance, and my wishes always lean toward the more-ish, especially when the outing is made hand in hand with my dearest companion. Though the old-fashioned postcard tradition for travelers may have been to write to friends and loved ones saying ‘Wish you were here’, the truth is more often that I wish I were nearer to them, wherever they are.
Art-Colored Glasses 
Multiple happy memories in the heart and on tiny sections of paper. Loved the read!
So glad, Terri!
I have my own happy memories on tiny sections of paper. Love it. Good read!
I’ll bet there are a whole lot of us who keep small keepsakes like this. 🙂
I save my ticket stubs, too. They make wonderful souvenirs and bring back good memories… Thanks for this post!
And you have lots of great travels to remember! Of course, your blog is the ultimate souvenir. 😀
I love the warm and fuzzy feeling happy memories bring.
🙂 Mandy
Me too, me too! 🙂
I’m very fortunate to have traveled to many of the places I’d previously dreamt of seeing. No matter the locale, though — and including a very real opportunity to stay “over there” — I never lost sight of Home. I was never homesick but never confused holiday with everyday. Holidays are filled with new sights and exciting activities; home & everyday with family and friends.
Yes, I treasure both of those sides of the life-adventure too.
As much as I love to wander the world, I’m only good for about two weeks…After that, I want to sit on my own porch, in my own garden, and drink my own wine…
Speaking of wanderings, is Tanglewood on Mr Sparky’s summer list this year?
Oh, we’d both love to visit Tanglewood! He’s been before; I’ve never. Our summer outing is shaped by the acceptance of R’s Collegium Singers to the festival on the other end of the country–Berkeley–in June, and a trip up the coast to see the family after. *Some* year, God willing, Tanglewood will be great fun. 😀
Oh I know the feeling! My friends and family are scattered throughout the world and it’s so hard to be far away from them no matter where I am. I do everything I can though to soak up the present place and moment–easier said than done!
By the way, I’ve nominated you for the Versatile Blogger Award! http://housepoulette.com/2012/04/23/versatile-blogger-award-a-belated-post/
Wuh-oh!!! I didn’t see this earlier–how did I not see this! I must add this kindness to my recent award post. You are so sweet, my dear Poulette. I thank you deeply. I’m so enjoying *your* blog and look forward to having some more time for it, hopefully soon. 😀
xoxo
Kathryn
‘Friend’ is a different word for ‘home’, wherever they happen to be in the world. My husband and I haven’t travelled to meet old friends in far, far, too long. (And I haven’t had a staff to make my bed and cook my breakfast in FAR, far too long, either). Clearly, it’s time to dust off our passports and get on a plane!
Absolutely true, dearest–it’s spelled Friend. And speaking of friends, always remember that while it’s not necessarily a truly *exotic* locale, I happen to know your passport can get you to Texas, where there’s a rustic little joint I know with a guest room . . . 😀 xo
I do the same things! Except mine are not as organized as yours.
The easy mode of organization is that those little stubs just lived in a heap in a messy box of memorabilia until I laid them out on the bed of my scanner for the post. The end.