A Place to Call Home? My Evolving Definition of Stability

A Place to Call Home?

My Evolving Definition of Stability

A place to call home?! Come on, Universe, that isn’t asking too much. My sanity is requiring it, my body needs it. It’s time.

I’ve been craving familiarity and comfort in all aspects of my life. When it comes to my living space, I’ve found it – at least for now … I’m hoping forever. After riding waves of the unknown for the last several months, the waters are finally calming. I moved into a new living space in October and I’m in love with it! It’s quiet and serene, perfect for my book-writing endeavor, with beautiful greenery surrounding the property. And it’s close to everything I know and everything I need.

All my Nor Cal belongings are out of the barn where they’ve been stored for what feels like eons. That was a big job. Many thanks to friends that helped move things from storage to the new pad and to Nicola and Chris who allowed me to store stuff for that long stretch for manageable rent.

In first moving in, my lovely mother came up to help me unpack, clean and set things up in the new space I’m renting. After 2 years of being stored in a barn, I even have my very own bed to sleep in.

I now can open the dresser drawer and there are my socks; open the bathroom drawer and there’s my hair brush! I open the closet door and get my choice of pants and sweaters, some I’ve not seen in ages! No more living out of a box or suitcases with the bare minimum. No more running around like a mad woman in search of the box that has my scissors, or scrambling to find a needed medical or car file folder, or that book that would be the perfect resource for a client.

The joy that overcame me when I put my 5 empty suitcases in the garage was a remarkable and rather unusual relief. I’ve been a nomad and a traveler for most of my adult life. (https://theunfoldingself.wordpress.com/2012/08/17/let-the-travel-begin/ and https://theunfoldingself.wordpress.com/2016/07/22/im-ready-its-time/) Home used to be wherever I laid my head at night for sleep. In my travel to Thailand, Australia, New Zealand, Europe and the UK, I’ve stayed in a variety of dorm rooms with various other nomads. As I’ve roamed, I packed fairly light making it easy to pull my belongings together and move along to the next leg of the journey – sometimes daily, other times after a month of landing. I adored the newness, the excitement, the feeling of exploration as the world consistently presented a new aspect of itself to my eager eyes. I was adaptable and found comfort in the new, in seeing and exploring, in connecting with folks whose journey merged with mine. There was a joyful feeling of expansion, a blossoming, as the world continued to reveal ever more.

This is the first time I can remember feeling such a strong desire to plant some roots, to create a home. There is freedom and expansion within the grounding I’m creating. I feel safe and secure within the rhythm of stability. I’m savoring being home, rarely having the desire to go out. And I’m loving calling it ‘home’ when for years, I couldn’t get myself to call where I lived ‘home,’ partly because it was someone else’s home and partly because I knew it was temporary. I’m not sure what’s next for me here in this new rental situation, but it’s offering me the grounding I need for the life I’m creating. It’s offering me the chance to process and be with all the outward energy and learnings of my travels and up-rootedness. The long term vision I hold for myself is to have the ability to return home after a trip where I’m out traveling to share my story, or attending a book signing event, or giving a workshop. If it were up to me (and I am visualizing and praying it is!), I’d stay here for the next 10 years.

Fingers and toes crossed that I’ve found what my heart has been seeking.

 

 

 

 

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