Homeward Being

“Home is a place we all must find, child.  It’s not just a place where you eat or sleep.  Home is knowing.  Knowing your mind, knowing your heart and knowing your courage.  If we know ourselves, we’re always home anywhere.”

–Glenda, the Good Witch of the South from ‘The Wiz’

                At the end of the first day of my journey to California, I stopped in Dallas in quaint, little apartment I found on AirBnB.  After eating some of the best Mexican food my mouth had ever encountered, it finally dawned on me that I was no longer at home in Mississippi in a rather somber and depressing way.  I realized the home I had come to know and love no longer was and it saddened me sans relent.  I no longer had a physical home to speak of, I didn’t belong anywhere.  If it weren’t for continuing the season of ‘Skin Wars’ I started before I left, I probably would have cried myself to sleep that night.

                The next morning (which came incredibly early, thanks to MS time), I started my morning in the same fashion with hydration, urination and meditation.  Groggy and emotionally hungover from the day before, I was still motivated enough to figure out how to turn this mindset around and make it positive or at the very least, useful in some way.  And as I started to calm the endless chatter that I was up long before I was, I was blessed with the warmest and comforting epiphany.  It wasn’t that I no longer belonged anywhere because I had no physical home but having no physical home was a complete moot point.  I belonged anywhere I chose to go, making home wherever I chose to be.

                From there, my anxiety about my surroundings lifted and I started to find myself at home on the road and wherever I stopped.  And that meant home was everywhere from deep in the Blue Mesa of the Painted Deserts of Arizona to the edge of a cliff of the Grand Canyon with the next step being a seven mile drop to driving west on I-40 out of Albuquerque as a small school of hot air balloons rose from behind the mountains.  And since I had to live with myself, I learned to treat myself with a deep sense of kindness, compassion and grace.  All of which was needed with every time the GPS would short out as I needed it and I would make wrong turns (and not just in Albuquerque).

                As I have been settling into life here, all of the life lessons that the road gave me have been tested and they have been vital to navigating this new world I chose to become a part of.  It has been an unyielding barrage of ‘new’ and it has quite overwhelming at several points.  There have been so many points where I wondered what I did to myself and would I be able to handle living here.  But there is no way to go back where I was because I am not the same person for taking the dive into the unknown.  My responses to those safe and familiar surroundings would be very different from having my world view expanded, as much regard as I hold said surroundings.

                Beyond everything else, I am blessed to say that I know myself and my capabilities enough to know what home means to me.  It means pushing and challenging my boundaries and feeling the effects thereof, whether I fly or fall.  But I have never heard of anyone skydiving for the landing.  I may not have stepped out of a plane but I certainly leaped out of my comfort zones and into the infinite possibilities of this world. And it is in those possibilities that I put my faith and trust because they will teach me more about myself and life than my comfort zone ever could. There, home is eventual and infinite.

Photo Source: Kenneth Givens
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