I'm home.
You know how sometimes you "misplace" something - your keys or your sunglasses or your phone - and you scramble frantically trying to locate them. You search the obvious places, like your bag or the table or the little glass bowl you specifically placed on the bookshelf for such a purpose. And then you think outside the box a little, because maybe it's in the crisper of your fridge? And then, after pawing through zuchini and a bag of spinach? Then your realize you PHYSICALLY HAVE IT ON YOUR PERSON. Sunglasses on head. Keys in pocket. Phone in hand.
You know how sometimes you "misplace" something - your keys or your sunglasses or your phone - and you scramble frantically trying to locate them. You search the obvious places, like your bag or the table or the little glass bowl you specifically placed on the bookshelf for such a purpose. And then you think outside the box a little, because maybe it's in the crisper of your fridge? And then, after pawing through zuchini and a bag of spinach? Then your realize you PHYSICALLY HAVE IT ON YOUR PERSON. Sunglasses on head. Keys in pocket. Phone in hand.
Seriously?
That metaphor, friends, pretty accurately sums up where my brain and my heart and my life have been in recent memory. I've spent far too long frantically searching for something that was there all along. And it's a humbling realization. It's beautiful and scary and overwhelming, but it feels good. It feels like home.
I'm already home.
That metaphor, friends, pretty accurately sums up where my brain and my heart and my life have been in recent memory. I've spent far too long frantically searching for something that was there all along. And it's a humbling realization. It's beautiful and scary and overwhelming, but it feels good. It feels like home.
I'm already home.
I want to write again, to share and learn and grow. And finally, that feels safe and warm and comfortable.
Just like home.
Just like home.
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