A Barren Day and My Roots

Its one of those days when I am uninspired and don’t seem to have anything to say that I haven’t said before. No poetry, no bursts of irked energy for a good old rant and certainly no spiritually uplifting thoughts or feelings. These sorts of days happen. Perhaps its because I have done nothing but write anyway – white papers, Analyst briefing notes, articles, presentations etc. etc. I really do write for a living it seems – if you are interested in those professional writings take a look here).

So….

What then?

Just recently I have been feeling a bit homesick for Houston. I mean, Houston was home for 17-years and after being away almost 8-years, I do miss it from time to time. I miss the heat would you believe and I miss the general ambience – the buildings, restaurants, bars…. but not enough to go back and live there.

I left home when I was 18. I couldn’t wait. There was nothing wrong with home nor family. I adored my parents and have two lovely brothers. I miss the hell out of my Dad and can’t wait to see my Mum here in a few weeks time. But, I wanted to stand on my own two feet and sooner rather than later. So off I headed to Birmingham and Aston University and the to Leeds for a year and then Glasgow for two more until, with Ph.D. done, I started my career in Aberdeen. Three years in, I moved to Sunbury on Thames and two years later to Ottershaw in Surrey then on to Basingstoke, Hampshire. From there, I was off to Houston and then Dallas before returning to Hampshire only to head back to Houston again. And from Houston I went to Brno spending a couple of years in Prague along the way.

You see, I got itchy feet!

I haven’t put down roots. I like all the places I have lived but none of these places is HOME. I don’t know where home is to be honest.

They do say home is where the heart is but where is my heart? Its physically located in Brno – which is home for me at the moment – but it is rootless as I am. Perhaps this is why I see things differently sometimes. I owe and have no allegiances (save to Hull City AFC) and my passports are to me simply papers of convenience. I am not to be labelled by nationality. I am me and me is fine thank you.

But roots? I’m unsure that I will ever find my roots this side of Neverland. I still remember something from my childhood… memories of somewhere else. That somewhere felt real to me and this one just doesn’t. My roots are there wherever there is…

Perhaps my roots are to be found towards the second star to the right, and straight on till morning………

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