Keagan’s World

The day has finally come.

You can set a countdown clock for when you get to stop watching my obnoxious travel photo dumps over a cup of coffee before your morning commute (if you have Instagram that is… and if you haven’t already muted or, better yet, blocked me). I’m coming home!

Well not yet.

In 2 and a half weeks. 2 weeks and 2 days to be exact (if you’re reading this a day, or two, or 36 later I trust you can do the math).

Or at least that was how much time there was left when I booked my flight, left my computer in Quito, and headed to the Galapagos. But my plan to post it a week later when I returned to mainland never happened. Because sea lions, turtles, sharks, and surfing are sick man.

And now I’m just 48 hours from it being all over.

And that’s frickin crazy. It’s been 186 days since I was last home. 186 days since I played a game of euchre at like 5 in the morning with my family before walking through security at Gerald R Ford.

186 days.

Nearly 2.5% of my life.

By far the longest I’ve ever spent away from my childhood home that I’ve grown up in since I was 2. Longer than any trip, longer than any time at university, longer than any internship. The longest ever. And I did it in foreign countries, on another continent, speaking a whole different language, solo.

When I read that, it’s shocking. It sounds so wild and crazy but never once have I felt like what I’ve been doing is outlandish in any way. Don’t get me wrong – everything I’ve done is so so cool, and I’m incredibly grateful for every moment I’ve had. I just mean to say that it just feels… right. Ya know? It never felt out of place. Like it was meant to be.

I was meant to live in Buenos Aires, be spontaneous, pack my shit up, and see the world. And to be fair, I’ve always been a curious person enthralled by the idea of traveling the world, but it only ever manifested itself in growing, unfilled bucket lists. The “when I have time”s. The “when I have money”s.

In reality, it was just the “when I stop wasting time and start living”s.

And how incredible living has been.

But all good things come to an end. Money runs out, friends get married (actually uncanny how many people I’ve met backpacking that are ending long-term trips for weddings – such a beautiful thing to return for). And if you think about it, it’s really just the beginning: the beginning of my quest to see the world. I’ve already dreamed up my next few trips – converted sprinter van road-trip from Mexico to Alaska, Brazil + Colombia, Central America, the Caribbean islands. All of it.

If nothing else, home resets the WOW-dar. Yes I just made that up but Merriam-Webster already hopped on that.

What I mean by that is the more crazy, incredible, jaw-dropping things you see, the less your WOW-dar spikes each time. Think of it this way, the first time you see a massive glacier-capped mountain you have that “holy shit” moment where everything melts away, your vision tunnels, and you just want to live in that view forever. Now think about the 26th one you’ve seen in a month. If you’re like me, you’re gonna stop and be like “whoa that’s cool” but it’s not going to rock your world like that first one did because it’s become less unique. It’s just like how low, sad moments in life make the happy moments that much better.

Going home gives me the chance to have this Salta experience again.

But there’s also something beautiful about a homecoming. As I said, I haven’t seen my family or vast majority of friends for at least 186 days. Just because something amazing is ending doesn’t mean coming out on the other side won’t be good.

Afternoons jumping in and out of the pool, telling myself I’m gonna start regularly swimming laps for exercise (never gonna happen).

Family euchre games where my mom inevitably forgets what the trump suit is or that her partner is already winning. Taking my friends’ Texas Hold ‘Em money to fund my weekend bar tab. Late night Bitter End sudoku, writing, and life chats sessions. Gordon Ramseying my way to a mediocre, healthy-alternative curry.

Free, clean tap water.

Cooking up fantasy football trades that will never actually happen (okay fine maybe I’ve already started this… accept my trade Wauben).

Acting like the 127th time playing Jake in pickleball is the time I will finally win. Back road drives with the windows down and Zach Bryan belting on the stereo.

Firing up the grill with the spatula in one hand and beer in the other. DIYing something I could probably just buy nicer, cheaper, and [a lot] easier.

My own bedroom.

Beach days (yes the damn beach – step off you Cali snobs) on the Great Lakes.

5-game DraftKings parlays. Bonfires and hoodie weather. Friends’ weddings.

The list goes on.

Just as going home resets your WOW-dar, going away makes you appreciate the small things about home. It teaches you what matters (yes you read that right – 5-game parlays made the list of things that matter).

And also c’mon… who said home has to be boring and slow? I started my quarter-life crisis so may as well finish it off the classic way by running a spontaneous marathon in October before I start working!

See you at the Grand Rapids Marathon finish line 🙂