"Home" Free Write #1

I'm in a writing class at the University of Washington - Experimental College, but we meet on campus, so I feel like a somebody after all these years. But, as usual, I digress!

The teacher has us doing a lot of free-writing. And since the focus of the class is memoir writing, most of the prompts revolve around our past. Now, I signed up for this, so I should be having "fun", right? However, I don't think my past is fun. I've spent many years trying to avoid it - see any of my previous posts. Therapist Lisa is certain that digging into what comes up is a good thing; that my sadness and detached feelings are due to me continually devising new and more innovative ways to distract myself from reality. She's probably right. Which is a good thing. Someone needs to know what I'm doing.

So. . . memoir class this week had prompts surrounding "Home". I dug into it with a little trepidation, I must confess. One of the reasons for that became clear when we did a cluster map around the word. I spent the entire time remembering all the places I've lived. When we finished, I'd come up with twenty. Twenty homes in roughly forty years. Well, a little over forty. I'm not saying how much over.

It makes sense then, that I am ambivalent over the concept of Home.

Here is the first free-write:

At this stage in my life, home is both a place I've made for my family, and a place I long to be. This home, the home in Seattle, is keeping me from the one I long for: heaven.

Psalm 73:25 says: "Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. "

That is how I feel, yet conflicted, because the family God and I have created is intensely a part of me, my heart if you will, and I can't imagine leaving them - especially now.

So here I am, my adopted self, in my adopted home town, with my adopted children and adopted dog, living in a borrowed house. Rooted to them, yet a traveler still. Only here a while.

My prayer for them is love and peace and joy and hope. My love for them is beyond words. My peace is in knowing I am where I should be. My joy is deep and quiet. My Hope is waiting for me, for them, for us. Waiting for us to come home.

Thank you for reading, peace be with you all.