Home (in My Own Skin)

I feel like I’m on a constant search for home—for “homeness,” that feeling of belonging, of alignment. That resonance that says, “Yes, I’m here.”

I feel that “homeness” more with people than with places. After a long dinner and longer conversation with a friend. After a long walk with someone when we’ve both allowed ourselves to be vulnerable. Or sometimes it’s just a look or a hug that makes me think, “You’ve come this way before.”

I’ve felt it in a few places—Korea, Ireland, New Orleans. I’ve often tried to figure out where it comes from. The loving community I have? A kinship in spirit with others around me? Similar personality types? Freedom? Love?

I can’t pinpoint it, and thus, I am always on the search.

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Continue reading “Home (in My Own Skin)”

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Breaking Up with Myself

My departure date is about a month away, my lease is up at the end of the month, and moving out of South Carolina has begun in earnest. But I shouldn’t say “moving out,” really–it’s actually more like “divesting myself of almost everything I own.”

Extreme, perhaps, but with only a pack on my shoulders (and a little space in storage offered by a friend from church), I’m slimming down in terms of my worldly possessions. But it’s a strange process.

With my stuff strewn across the floor, or boxed to give away, or being carted out the door, almost every last piece of it, I feel like I’m breaking up with myself.

And in a way, I am. Continue reading “Breaking Up with Myself”