I just wrote about the process and place I am in right now then last night my new neighbor invited me over for dinner. An Italian volunteer working to restructure the Teacher Training Program, Flaminia she is a beautiful long lean empowered woman with flowing brown hair, deep true eyes, and holds an air of the world. After months of dinner dates with a 5 and 7 year old, it was nice to have company. We ate pasta with a tomato sauce and wine. I was wondering if I was still in Malawi…but I’ll save the delicious details for another time.
She has spent many years living in Africa. So we spent most of the night talking about finding that place, a place to belong, a place of contentment, a place to grow. The more I travel and live the less I can find “home”. Wenatchee (where I grew up) is a place of warmth and great comfort, but home isn’t a physical place to me anymore. Yet still in all the places I have lived, I have found a sense of “home” but at some point it doesn’t fit anymore. I told her maybe I just haven’t found the balance yet to which she poetically replied, “Maybe we just need to flow. Life is a process that comes in phases. We have to be in tune to ourselves to know when to move on.” I wanted to just hold on to those words. I have so much fear and self doubt about my lack of ability to grow roots and build a “home” but maybe those doubts and fears are just the imposed values of society.
My home and roots are alive and strong, they just span from the Pacific Northwest to Mexico to Ecuador to Malawi, growing love and light.
Maybe all these transitions are challenging because of that, I’ve rooted myself. I have connected.
Maybe I’m already home?
I’m so grateful for the (much needed) fierce reminder that we are beautiful.
Life is beautiful.