My best friends—the ones who know my history as well as my present—live in other states and countries. Consulting a clock and googling GMT +/- seems like a normal thing to do before making a phone call. I work with kids who are in over 70 different regions of the world. I follow the news of distant lands more deliberately than I follow the news of the place my stuff is.
Distance seems normal. Proximity is foreign.
Even when those I love are in a huggable distance, part of my heart is somewhere else. Somewhere distant. I don’t think there has been a time since high school when everyone I cared about was in the same place at the same time. (Besides, it’s hard to move a country!)
In some ways distance is a gift. There are always people to visit and places to go. In other ways, it’s hard to have your hear scattered around the world.
photo courtesy of tinneketin
This is my post for Five Minute Fridays over at The Gypsy Mama. The rules? Set the clock for 5 minutes. Write till it goes off. Post. Link up. So that’s what I did—plus maybe another 15 seconds. Stopping mid-sentence doesn’t work so well for me. Oh yeah—and then I had to find a picture. Why don’t you head on over, see what others had to say.