Home is Where The Heart Is.

This is my favorite time of year. When I wake up in the morning, a slight breeze, and the sun kissing my face. When winter is falling into an unpleasant distant memory. Similar (but not the same) as that haircut you had in middle school. 
         Truth be told I'm a little homesick. Of course, when you are so emotionally attached to more than one place, you often feel homesick no matter where you are. But after this week, I could do with a few Columbia County days. To sit in the living room of our strong and silent house, reading in the afternoon sun as the clock on  the mantel ticks on by. Or sitting with my Katie-did sipping tea and "talking it out" until the wee hours. I may not always like what she has to say, but I miss her saying it. Sweet tea and "sunbathing" in the back yard. P.S: Irish American girls should not sunbath. Its less like bathing and more like cooking.
         I bet they're turning the soil if you drive on out toward Benton, always a sure sign spring is here. Other important signs include: The Bloomsburg fountain running, Rita's opening and SalVal putting outside toys for sale in the window.
          I want to get in my truck (yes Dad, its my truck for just a few months, then I swear I will gladly return it.) and drive. I need a break. I want to sit in my meeting house with the smell of old pews and cut grass and breath deep with people I love. That's how it is this morning. Yesterday too.
        Tomorrow, I might be homesick for the shore. For the waves or my Grandma's house that has its own unique smell of Lysol and bubble bath. The postage stamp yard with its giant flagpole and weird aluminum fence that leaves white dust on your clothes when you hop over it. Of course, its not the same without a man I loved more than life sitting in a leather backed recliner reading The Star Ledger and popping M&M's. Just goes to show you can be homesick for people too.
        I'm often sick for the ocean. My ocean. My sanctuary no matter which end I am standing on. A part of the planet that is more than relaxation, its restoration. I think that might be why Ireland's west coast calls to my soul so much. Ireland.
      I have one week and one day until I hop on my next adventure. Going to yet another home. Another soil that claims my heart. A place I always miss. I'm getting on an airplane that I have spent years waiting to be able to actually board. My backpack, a small suitcase, Sleepytime Pooh and me. On our way to grow, to learn, to form new bonds with a culture and people I so enjoy. To be still and listen. A lot.
 I wonder if someone with wanderlust ever actually settles in one place for very long. I guess that will be one of the many joys of my life journey. Finding how many places I can leave my heart.

It's Okay They Know Me Here. (My Village and Me)

There's a little village way up on the top of this mountain. A far away place in the depths of my mind, its full of jagged cliffs and mountain goats, a place only the truly adventurous travel. The road is treacherous and steep, but the view is incredible. That's where I tuck my heart for safe keeping. Not locked in a box, not sealed away unfeeling, but protected by people who love me, and far out of reach of just anybody's grasp. It's where I reside most of the time. I don't have walls. I can't have walls. If I'm going to be an actor, I have to be able to reach all aspects of myself. But not just anyone gets to live in my village. My mecca.
     Seriously, its an awesome place. My life is awesome. (And that's not a metaphor).  I don't lack for anything. Books, music, culture and friends. Family, art, and a little padded room when necessary. (Little bipolar joke there, its okay you can laugh). Every once and awhile I travel down my mountain for someone really special. And I mean- really special. Its a long trip. I don't make it for just anybody. So when I do, its a helluva party. And one helluva tough climb back when I have to make it alone. That's where I'm at this morning. Starting the climb. My village is waiting for me. I'm making my retreat. Battered and bruised but never broken, I will arrive safe and sound. And I'll hang out there awhile. Me and my heart. Safe in my life that I've created for myself. Surrounded by my villagers, my music, my art.