3/21/10
The more free time I have, the more the philosopher in me surfaces. Work in the lighting industry is very much like rain: one has months of drought and months of flooding. In my particular case, the months of January through March are often a desert wasteland with occasional oases dotting the path just often enough to keep one alive. This year has been no exception.
When one is used to a constantly moving gypsy life, standing still can take quite a bit of getting used to. The first month I just enjoy being home and catching up with family and friends. The second month I begin to get very anxious and cabin fever sets in. By the third month I have to take a vacation and go somewhere.
Usually around the third week at home I become keenly aware of the fact that it is a rare friendship that can be sustained by telephone calls, e-mail, and Facebook. Most people live lives that center around a geographically small area. They interact with the same groups of people regularly and base the vast majority of the fun activities that make their lives worth living around social events that happen in said geographic area. Therefore, when one is not present for all of these memory-making occasions, he/she is left out of the memories. Only very special friendships can survive that lack of presence. (And considerably fewer romantic relationships can survive it).
The opposite side of that coin is that we, the travelers, make our memories from such a large area. Some people admire that when we tell funny stories about everyday activities they are sometimes set in exotic locations, others resent that we sometimes make being in an exotic location sound so casual, and some can understand that one has to do laundry in Amsterdam to have clean clothes just as one has to do laundry at home to have clean clothes.
Tags: distance relationships, lighting, travel
