Some days I wish that I could move home. To be taken care of, to stop swimming upstream, to just flow. To curl up on the couch in December and watch Danny Kaye dance across the television screen, making a girl float with him. I'm blinded by the twinkle lights. I can smell the ginger snaps. I just want a house that's a home.
It all came crashing down when we were thinking of moving to Lompoc. My immediate response was, "I don't know- it's kinda far." And his was a confused, "From what?" Ouch. He was right though- the only anchor I have is him. I've never renewed a lease. I'm not cut out for this life like my sister. She's the nomad, I'm the homebody. That's how it's always been. But we've switched roles and I don't like it. Everything's up in the air and I don't know how to juggle.
Trust that the place you will end up has the potential to be exactly what you want. Trust that even if it's not much to look at on the outside, you have the power to make ginger snaps and twinkle lights on the inside. Trust that when you find a direction (realize it may take some time) the path will unfurl its tangled vines for you.
ReplyDeleteIf you can trust those things, you can trust the balls to stay in the air on the own, and you won't have to learn to juggle.
Love you.
PS If you want some help hunting let me know, I can always come down and search with you.
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