Put down the lists, and back away slowly.
Is it possible to be at home where ever you are? What if your heart really is where it’s at, and if it’s big enough and open enough, your surroundings are merely a backdrop to the more important main event. Good evening, and welcome to your life…
I find myself in a strange place. Homeless, and yet far from the streets. Taking refuge on my friends’ couch. (I really sleep on the floor but the boys will yell at me when they find out.) Paul showed me around the new house, giving me the tour and I think he may have been trying to reintroduce me to electricity and indoor plumbing, by the way he was demonstrating how appliances work and function. I am not a foreign exchange student, although charlotte does seem like another world. Strange and new, yet comfortingly familiar. How can it be that I feel equally at home in the Colorado mountains as I do in the Philadelphia streets, or in the cradle of the Queen city, that only months ago seemed suffocating and claustrophobic? A city built on striving, held up by corporate ladders, focused only on the becoming. I needed to get a little perspective. And it wasn't until I was able to get some distance, to let my grip loosen, that I realized that all of this struggle to become something, to make something of my life, was distracting me from the simple fact that I already am. I just need to hold still. To stop running. To stop chasing. The goal is not to become, but to be.
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