Fall-ing Back

I woke up this morning to the sunlight competing with the color from the leaves of the trees. It smelled like chimney smoke, cinnamon, and incense. I felt like a child again: walking around the neighborhood with my pumpkin filled with candy and a few tricks up my sleeve.

Work brings me to St. Louis, a town I don't get to visit often, but when I do it's like time stood still, nostalgia embraces me, and my mind slows down and reflects.  Visiting St. Louis is like a yoga class, a day at the spa;  it is pure comfort.  I slow down. I can't think; I don't feel;  I just am.

I am curious if this feeling resonates with most who leave their home town for something more; to challenge themselves; to relish the uncomfortable.  Do we all return and find solace in the tranquility, or does it scare us into thinking: maybe I haven't changed.  Perhaps, I am the same. 

Am I falling back to my previous life, my beliefs, my existence?  It's interesting when the days get shorter, the trees shed their leaves, and the holidays are a mere "tomorrow," I too fall and remember who I once was.

My mother still watches Young and the Restless even though Victor and Nikki have the same exact story-line.  My father peers over his laptop with the latest stock news.  And I order Imo's Pizza and call it a day.  Time didn't even inch forward.