Somewhere deep inside of me is a tank reserved for the familiar. It gets replenished by the people and places that touch my soul. And drained living in a world where everything and everybody is new.
By people who ‘get’ me, who know my history and accept that this is who I am, warts and all. The kind of people that I can wear trackpants around and they won’t care, probably because they are also wearing trackpants, or at least wishing they were!
By places that smell right. That look right. Those familiar places that have worked their way deep into my soul and that exude the essence of “home”.
Prior to heading back to Australia for our first lot of home leave since moving to Singapore in May 2011 my Familiarity Tank was empty. I’d run out of fuel and was stranded on the side of a busy highway. I had lost my expat mojo.
Home has filled my Tank to overflowing.
I am refuelled and ready to plunge back into our new world.