I am ready to be home. And I have been for a while. Maybe its been months, maybe its just been since Wednesday when I came down with a serious flu. I am a spontaneous, adventurous spirit, I can be comfortable anywhere and I can find my way and thrive anywhere in the world. But just because I can, doesn’t mean that that is the ideal situation for my own personal growth and well being. While no slave to routine, I like having one. I am someone who needs roots so that I can spread my wings. When I have a home base, I feel free to bound off for the next adventure. But when I am rootless, I feel a level of disquiet and stress, blowing free in the breeze. A home, for me, gives me a place to come back to and recharge, relax and reset. I have been without a home for a year and I approached threshold on being homeless somewhere along the line. That doesn’t diminish the adventures I have had, not at all, they are all wonderful and I look forward to many more. But I am ready to be in one place and cultivate THAT place and THAT adventure. As I said in my previous post, I have decided that home is San Francisco. I am super excited and ready to dig in.
What home means to me:
having a routine, cultivating and tending to friendships, as well as widening my social circle. Filling my cupboards and pantry, cooking things and making enough to freeze and eat months from now. Leaving my shoes near the door and my suitcase deep in the closet gathering dust. Answering the question “where do you live” with a resolute answer. Having friends come visit me from out of town. Brewing my own kombucha, making sauerkraut and a throwing cooking and dinner parties. Exploring my city, trying restaurants with reckless abandon and taking weekend trips all over the place. Having weekly runs with friends, early, late, fast and slow.
There are many and more things that I am very excited about. But for now, I am trying to be patient, enjoy the waning moments of my vagabond days and look forward to the new adventure that is ahead of me.