The Art of Coming Home: Inspired by My Travels

There are so many beautiful places in the world to see, and it is our nature to explore them. I love to travel, and sometimes, even more, I appreciate the comfort of returning home. 

Waking up on a still winter morning in the mid-west to see the earth covered in a blanket of newly fallen snow, pure and pristine, covering a thousand sins with countless crystals glistening in the sun, is a sight to behold. Too many days of this, though, and I sense a restlessness bubbling up inside me. I desire to feel the grass tickle my toes and the coolness of the earth under my feet. The four walls of my home start to feel less inspirational and more confining. Jumping online, I find a beautiful destination with photographs of bright sunshine, unique architecture, friendly faces, and fresh linens. Flights booked and bags packed, I set off for new sights, new connections, and a new perspective. Usually, about ¾ of the way through the allotted vacation time, I begin longing to return home… but why?  What is it about home that draws us back? And if you don’t feel a deep sense of comfort and connection, like the visit with an old friend or the care of an embrace from a loved one, what needs to change?

My body relaxes as soon as the plane wheels lose contact with the ground. With this downshift of my internal gears, my blood pressure and heart rate drop, I exhale and look out the window to observe the texture of the clouds and the depth of color in the streams of sunlight. When I travel I am always in awe of the beautiful architecture. When I am on vacation, I walk at a slower pace and study each detail. I think about the architect's intentions and the hands that labored to construct it. I appreciate great design, so I recognize the thoughtfully laid-out hotel lobbies that invite guests to mingle, spacious fitness rooms with biophilic designs, and moody restaurants that make you forget what time it is. I understand the difference between a sterile hotel room and a proper place of reprieve. With a view overlooking the city or out towards the sea, a great hotel room not only meets your utility needs of sleeping and bathing but pampers you with fresh linens on a comfortable turned-down bed and soft fluffy towels in a clean, perfectly lit bath. 

Vacation forces a slowdown of the nervous system, it allows the time to be present, to engage with, and better appreciate our surroundings. Each time I travel, I am reminded of what brings me joy, and I consider how to incorporate a piece of this into my own home. At home, our living spaces are designed with conversation as the primary focus. Simple touches like rotating our coffee table books to spark conversation enhance the experience. Our dining room is dimly lit with dark oak wainscotting, smokey gray walls, and comfortable seating, the mess of the kitchen is out of sight, which keeps everyone at the table talking for longer. Most days, I make my bed in the morning. The comfort of knowing that my bed is in order gives a sense of peace and brings relaxation to my evening routine. I can slip under the covers to read or converse with my husband about the day rather than crashing on top of a heap of blankets and passing out with exhaustion. Making your bed each morning is a simple way to treat yourself like a guest in your own home. If your linens are shabby, invest in a new silky organic bamboo set of sheets. Switch out a few dingy bath towels for the thick, oversized, fluffy, organic cotton kind with a matching monogram robe.

Take some time now to recall luxuries that you’ve experienced during your travels. Ask yourself what makes you feel special, inspired, and loved, and consider how you can incorporate these elements into your home. Also, don’t overlook what you have. Just like taking loved ones for granted, we too can take the beauty of our daily surroundings for granted. Slow down to engage with and appreciate the beauty that surrounds you each day.