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Sunday, July 07, 2013

Searching for Home

Remember Solsbury Hill?  If you have been a long time visitor of CSTH, you probably do.

Remember the decision to move from Livermore to Lake County?  Remember the heartache and the letting go and the excitement of moving?  All encapsulated in a song.

The search for Home is one that recurs constantly in my life, in my dreams, in my goals, and in my fears. I thought when we made the move here, we would be finally home and that the constant searching and moving would be over.

“Hey,” he said, “Grab your things I’ve come to take you home.”

Now we’re packing for another move.  Letting go and saying goodbye and suffering the bittersweet of change.  Home wasn’t.  It turns out, sometimes everything you think to be reality can be just a facade.

When illusion spin her net
I’m never where I want to be
And liberty she pirouette
When I think that I am free

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be done being a gypsy.  Sometimes I wonder if I ever truly want to be done.

The thing about moving is that it really does make you stop and evaluate your life.  I’ve really had to put it all under a microscope and take a look at what I’m doing and who I have become.  There is pride, and regret, and all the other mix of emotions one would expect.  There’s also a sense of “something missing”.  Of course, you don’t know what you don’t know, right?  Not especially helpful.

I make no apologies for my hoarding tendencies.  It’s inherited.  Mom always complained of grandma’s hoarding, but she, too, hoarded in her own ways.  I am proud of the movie ticket stubs and photographs and postcards and report cards and macaroni necklaces (there’s actually only one of those.)  It’s true, if all of it disappeared, it wouldn’t make those moments and memories cease to exist, but it’s nice having those touch stones and reminders of what has gone before and how very much has changed in the last decade.

spoon

This one baffled and annoyed me, at first.  “No wonder all my silverware disappears…” I thought for a moment.  But then I realized there was a bow tied on it.  A gift?  Oh.  Oh!  Oh.  TDO… when he finally “got” the Spoon Theory in an effort to show me he got it.  “Here, you can have one of my spoons!” he proudly declared. OK, so he didn’t really get it - cos you can’t just buy, borrow, steal, or be gifted spoons.  You get what you get and that’s it.  But still.  It was an effort.

There were birthday cards from Toni (in lieu of cards from my actual mom), postcards and little gifties from Tirzah, reminders of outings with Andrea, and other reminders of precious moments and friendships from Chris, Erica, the kids, TDO, the Hickoks, Drea… a few moments from Scouting (I usually keep them separate, but these were especially personal.)  I had a whole drawer of things to add to my large plastic bin of such memories.  The bin is nearly full now.  I suppose I should consider thinning it at some point, but I’m jealously guarding 40 years of memories and friendships, heartaches and triumphs in that flimsy bin.  I’m not ready to let go of anything, just yet.  Maybe someday.

I wish I could say I was enthusiastic and ready to let go of everything I will have to leave behind in this move, but I’m not.  Unlike when we moved here when I felt certain that it was a move for the better, this is less certain and holds a lot more loss, even if it’s only theoretical or imagined loss.  I wish I could say I was ready for this and confident in the choice, but I’m just not there, yet.  I wish I could say it was better planned and more solidly designed, but it’s not.  It’s jumping almost blindly and hoping that I’ll either land somewhere soft or learn to fly, but not really believing either.

The lessons of Wood Badge are sticking with me.  You can help usher in change, or you can resist it and suffer.  Be the change, or be run over by it.  I hate that I’m somewhere in the middle on this one.

Posted by Liberty on 07/07 at 06:19 PM
Posted under: See-ThroughThe Soundtrack

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