I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Home. Actually, I always think a lot about Home — the concept of home, the actual home I’m living in, and (all too often) where my next home will be. In the 33 years since I left my parents’ home, I’ve lived in at least 23 different places, the longest for five years. When I was younger, it was fun — my possessions would fit in a couple of trips in friend’s van or truck, and I liked the adventure. Rentals were easier to find back then too, and therein lies the heart of my fretfulness right now. I had the blessing/curse to fall in love at an impressionable age with a place (Santa Cruz, California) where rentals are scarce and expensive. When I moved into this house a year ago, my new landlords said the magic words that every renter longs to hear: “We want someone who will stay at least ten years.” Blissfully, I let my spirit expand, sink roots, begin to believe that I would spend years in the same place, that I could count on it. Can you guess what’s coming?
Yup — when it came time to renew my lease last month, my (very nice and kind) landlords regretfully told me that they really don’t like being landlords after all — this is their first time — and they would feel more comfortable with a month-to-month agreement rather than a yearly lease. It’s nothing to do with me personally, they don’t want a different tenant, they may just not want any tenant and may prefer to sell the place instead. After some discussion, they agreed to a three-month agreement, which doesn’t really make me feel any better. In a flash, I went from someone who could breathe easily for the next ten years to someone who can have a panic attack every three months. And that’s not how I want to live.
So here I am, musing again over that concept of home. I’ve written about home quite a bit, in SageWoman and elsewhere. It’s a central theme in my life, which means there are certainly big soul lessons to be learned. Being grateful in the moment is obviously one of them. I opened the newest issue of Somerset Home and saw a little art quilt with the words “You are home” and felt the words resonating within me. I am home, today, this morning, this afternoon. I know where my bed is tonight, and I know where I will wake up tomorrow. That’s more than many, many people have, and I am grateful. I’m so grateful to be back home in the Santa Cruz area, after spending four years elsewhere, and I give thanks for that every day.
Another clear lesson for me is trust. I have always had a place to live, and I need to trust that I always will. The Goddess always gives me what I need — which is not always what I think I want! So, if She wants me to move again, that’s the way it will be. My soul cards in the tarot are the Emperor and the Fool, and I’ve always seen them in opposition to each other, much like my Virgo sun and Pisces moon — the Fool whose primary purpose is to wander, and Emperor whose purpose is to stabilize and build (the above two links are to Joanna Powell Colbert's Gaian Tarot). But now, I’m wondering if maybe the real meaning is that I need to carry my stability within me, regardless of where I wander. Or conversely, maybe I need to keep my spirit light and open, regardless of how deeply invested I am in a particular place on planet Earth. I suspect it’s both, and that perhaps when I really get this lesson, things may settle down for me. Or not! (says the Fool.)
In any case, I’m motivated this morning to share these thoughts with you, not just to clarify them for myself, in Fine Olde Blogue tradition, but also because I believe fervently in the power of networking and web-weaving to bring us all the things we need. YOU might be the very person who can help facilitate the next step in my Fool’s journey. So here is what I am asking to come to me, and you are all witnesses to my magical intention! I want a stable home in the Santa Cruz area, with friendly and reassuring landlords who ask a reasonable rent. A home that is quiet and serene, filled with creative energy and a welcoming spirit. A home that is safe for me and for my three very clean and polite indoor cats. A home with a nice big bathtub! A home with room for my way-too-many books. A home I can grow old in, perhaps. A home I can really call home and trust it will stay that way as the Wheel of the Year slowly turns, season by beautiful season. If you or someone you know may be the fairy godmother who fulfills this wish, let me know! And in the meantime, moment by moment, day by blessed day, I give heartfelt thanks for Being Here Now.
Shekhinah used to sing, "Make for yourself a power spot..." I'm making power spots for myself here at Lunadoon, but equally important are quiet spots, placed where excess energy can be let go, where nothing is done in a purposeful way, where emptiness awaits. Mine is at the far end of the solarium, with a big white rocking chair, a table to hold a cup of tea or a book. There may be plants there eventually, though it's challenging to find plants that can handle the very hot part of the summer day in the solarium. Right now the plants are all outside, redwood trees hundreds of feet tall and all the other green friends of the forest. This house is all at the second-floor level, with the solarium in the front, so it's like being in a treehouse. In the cool morning and the cool evening, all is peaceful. There is birdsong, squirrel chatter, the distant sound of a low train whistle. I read a poem aloud, slowly, and then drift on its imagery and the thoughts and memories it draws forth. The quiet spot has done its work -- and now I can get back to mine.
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