Family, Food, Reading, Relaxing, Swimming.

In my quiet moments, I pondered, have I become reclusive or just quite comfortable?

I used to think summer meant travel.

Airports. Hotels. Packing. Unpacking. Repacking

Now?

I have a pool.

A grill.

A comfortable chaise.

Nearby a green grocer and a mighty fine butcher and fishmonger.

I’m beginning to wonder if I have accidentally created a self-sustaining ecosystem.

Years ago, staying home for a week would have felt like a failure. Surely a proper adult was supposed to be jetting off somewhere, posting photos from exotic destinations, and pretending not to check work emails.

Today, the thought of navigating airport security, flight delays, lost luggage, and crowds of people wearing matching family vacation T-shirts sounds less like a vacation and more like a hostage situation.

Instead, I wander into the backyard.

The pool is ten steps away.

The refrigerator is fifteen.

The Aperol Spritz is chilling.

The dog is happy.

The husband knows where I am.

It’s hard to improve on that.

I suspect some of this comes with age. You spend decades building a life and eventually realize you have created a place you actually enjoy being.

Part of it may also be the state of the world.

Every day brings a new headline involving politics, the economy, technology, climate change, or some fresh disaster we didn’t know we needed to worry about.

In uncertain times, home begins to feel less like a house and more like a fortress of emotional support.

A comfortable cocoon.

A sanctuary equipped with floating pool rafts and an outdoor kitchen set up.

The question, of course, is whether this is healthy.

At what point does contentment become isolation?

Is choosing your own backyard over a crowded resort or bustling capital city wisdom or is it simply maturity and an hint of an antisocial ‘tude?

I honestly don’t know.

What I do know is that there is a profound luxury in feeling at peace where you are.

The Not everyone has that.

Many people spend their lives dreaming of being somewhere else.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting poolside wondering whether to grill salmon or steak.

It’s not exactly a spiritual awakening, but it is not nothing.

Perhaps the goal is not to stop exploring the world.

Perhaps it is to create a life you do not constantly feel the need to escape from.

If that is reclusive behavior, then pass me another iced cappuccino with whip piled high and point me toward a lounge chair.

I’ll be conducting further research from the shallow end of the pool and mentally gearing up for football season.