I write stories in my head everyday. Doesn’t matter what i’m doing or where I am. Every experience takes root and plays like music.

Yesterday I was sweeping my back patio for the third time this weekend. The leaves never know when to stop ha. I started crying. What a loser. I’m sweeping and crying. But the truth is… I am learning to be home.

What a silly thing. Why would anyone have to learn to be home? Well I do. I love the life I have lived so far, but it hasn’t been an easy one. Choosing to travel often means choosing to be alone. I think at times I even push myself and stay super busy so I won’t realize that I am.

When I was a little girl my diddy built me this beautiful cabin. I loved it so much. Pretty much lived in it. I remember sweeping the floors of the cabin and then sweeping the ground all around the cabin. The dirt eventually got hard because of how much I swept. It was mine, and I wanted it to be perfect. I remember how colorful the leaves were laying around my cabin. It was the lining of a world where everything was good and everything was right. As I swept, I realized that is where I am right now. I don’t know what tomorrow will hold, but in my little back yard, everything was good and everything was right.

I am learning to be home. Taking joy in my pot roasts, my strange crafts, and cloroxing at midnight. It’s such a priviledge to just be alive in a place that mostly mine. Someone asked me the other day if I thought I might die tomorrow, lol because I did stuff everyday like it was my last. haha My reply was of course… why wouldn’t I live my best today. I’m very thankful for carpet in the morning, windows that open at night, and chairs that hug!

I won’t put off tomorrow what I can do today… which is be grateful for a home that is warm, food that is filling, and knowledge that you can be content whether you are in a little log cabin, crawling with spiders, or in a Meridian apartment with yellow leaves.

I love the process… of learning to be home.