Not Just the There and Then

Sometimes, I wake up with the desire to be somewhere else.

Sometimes, it's to be in a moment like this, where luxury and convenience and carefree-living was the name of the game. You couldn't help but relish in the joys of gorgeous Caribbean views and lingering, room service-ordered breakfasts.




And then other times, like this morning, I want nothing more than to wake from a deep slumber, find myself in a van moving across the Tanzanian "countryside", and spend my morning doing this, again:


I wonder to myself whether it's Africa. Or whether it's the children. Or whether it's the unknown and the discovery and the simplicity of moments like that. But no matter the cause, I crave it. I crave that feeling of complete abandon, timelessness, and absolute purpose. And it all comes with the territory, I think. Because fall, as beautiful and perfect as it always is, builds within me a tension. A tension of expectancy and growth... through change, through loss, and through new perspective gained.

And I'm just wondering where that is in the here and now, not just the there and then.