Pining for the international family.


Crisp blue skies, glowing sunshine, fresh cut grass and even more freshly poured coffee. The latest music discovery flows over the top… ethereal vocals? Check. Trap drum beat? Check. Endless repetitions? Check. The finest output of the latest Macbook musician… I digress.

So far so idyllic right? There’s just one thing missing, or a whole bunch of them. They started as friends but have long since taken the status of family, my nearest and dearest who are (un)fortunately scattered across most of the northern hemisphere. The blight of the wanderlust struck and the relentlessly travelling millennial. Once banded together by a few common goals yet frighteningly and beautifully individual. Throw them together to live in community and watch them flourish.

The individual journey dictates that we share the same physical location for only a time, before the inevitable itch of feet and change of winds drifts us apart. I’m convinced this is a good thing, necessary for growth, no regrets and all that. Only this morning I wish I was sharing the coffee.

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