Tuesday, February 25, 2014


Weird thing happened when I returned from NC. When I walked into the nest I didn't feel a sense of being home. I'm not even sure what I mean by that. I haven't lived here that long and there are ways in which I haven't fully internalized the fact that this is my home. It was days later when I stood up, turned toward the kitchen, took in the sight of my cookbook corner and smiled.
I've had the thought that so much of what makes a place home is about habits. It's about the sound of the radio when you're taking a shower and making breakfast. The lights that you turn on when the sun starts to set. It's about the smell of the hand soap.
I think for people in relationships, or with pets it's about hugs and kisses. Maybe. I don't know.
I've been in state of gratitude since I first walked into the nest. Grateful just to be here. Grateful for the people who helped me get here. Grateful for every house warming gift. Grateful every time I do laundry. It's been a long time since I've experienced such spontaneous, sustained gratitude.
Maybe the opposite of gratitude is resentment and I have plenty of that. I have a deep well of resentment. I can tap into it at any moment. But I tap less often. 
If you tell me to look at the positive, I'll tell you to learn to be able to endure the negative. I get very cranky, very quickly when people are all about the positive thing. I have made, I try to make effort to be authentic. And sometimes I am not authentically... positive. It's not about making that OK. It just is.
There's something about wholeness. Something that requires acceptance. Mara tempts and assaults and is always there. Should we ignore Mara? Be entertained? Who knows? But what I feel is that these emotions and experiences and embarrassments are not to be denied. 
I feel more positive things than I have in years. Every color on a wall. Every book on a shelf. Every plant in window. All my stuff. It's all here and all unpacked and I look at it all with new eyes.
But I didn't feel immediately at home. It doesn't worry me. It's just curious. It's like wearing a new outfit and not being sure of the fit, or the style.
I actually think it's a very good thing. The radio I listen to now is OPB, which is NPR with Oregon content. The lights I turn on are all linked to one switch, which makes me smile for no particular reason. The smell of the hand soap is the same but the water gets warm faster. I haven't established habits. Or at least none to which I cling. It's really hard for me to imagine a time when living here won't feel like an amazing reality that I did not see coming.
Maybe that's the way home feels.