May 17, 2023- As I got off the train this morning, sans jacket, I felt a slight chill in the air and moved briskly towards the area where the Sportage was parked. I noted that a slightly-built young woman, who had initially regarded me with suspicion, while we were on the train, was also without a jacket and was rather flustered-perhaps having met the same fate. I also noted that several well-built men were without coats. Maybe there was a run on outerwear, back at Union Station.
It is customary to welcome people back, when they have been away from a situation-whether to a place of work or to a community. I appreciate the greeting, but I must admit that a limited view of home has never resonated with me. Home has been any number of places, over the years: Saugus is still the place where I lived the longest, though Prescott is catching up, in that regard. Bangor never really felt that comfortable. Amherst, Northampton and South Deerfield were fine places to live, while I was in school-as was Flagstaff. Tuba City and Jeddito helped me expand my awareness of true First Nations life. Jeju did the same, for my understanding of East Asian thought and cultural norms. Salome, once I got an appreciation of rural desert dwellers, might have been a fine place to settle, but for local politics. Phoenix was too close to the rawness of the situation we were in, as a couple and as a family dealing with deadly disease. It was also far too hot, for too many months in the year.
I’ve addressed the issue of where I feel most at home, when on the road, several times before and will not belabor that matter again, here. Basically, though, home is ever a state of mind. Maybe that was why I felt as comfortable whilst on the buses and trains, yesterday, as I do right now in “my own” living room.
It’s nice to be at Home Base, though, and I hope the young lady at the train station found her way back to where she feels at home, in fairly short order.
I don’t feel like I’ve found a place to call home yet. Where I reside currently, it is just where I live. It doesn’t feel like home. I’m still waiting to find a place that calls to me.
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Many people feel that way. I call Prescott “Home Base”, because I am able to feel at home in a number of places-not limited to one. On the other hand, it is a matter of inner peace that largely determines how we feel towards a location-as well as how we are treated there.
Feeling home and feeling stuck are the same thing for me right now. Both are emotional connections. I do feel that anywhere in the world is my home.
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That is very sad, and maybe one way forward is to sit down and write-or draw your expectations of home. Journaling helped me to arrive at just such an understanding.