"As I, like so many, adjust to a new reality of self-isolation and social distancing---terms that seem lifted straight from the dystopia playbook---I feel a yearning for... something. I might be tempted to call it homesickness if I hadn't stopped believing in "home" as a place you could return to... It might be that what I yearn for most is motion. Last year, as the @nytimes 52 Places Traveler, I spent an entire year in perpetual transit, traveling to a different place every week. I constantly missed the things that once had anchored me: my partner, my cat, and my brother in New York; another brother in California; my parents in Dubai. But I also found snippets of what could be recognizable as "home" everywhere: the family who took me in and cooked me dinner on a farm on Orcas Island, the young women in Tunis who drove me into the suburbs for hip-hop and strobe lights, a bearded man and a bottle of whiskey deep in Siberia. That feeling of "home"---the one that shifts with each moment of serendipity, the one I find in people that are both new and familiar---feels farther away than ever right now." Read @sebmodak's full story on what homesickness means when home is impossible to define---link in bio. 📷: @barkinozdemir
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