In those days, I was very awake in some ways. I walked around as if I were a giant exposed nerve ending. I felt electrified by ideas and people and places. I was a living lightning rod. And every bolt that struck me, ripped itself right down into my core. And every time this happened, it felt like a sign from the universe. I was ALWAYS on the lookout for signs back then. I was in my mid-twenties. I thought I had seen the world. I thought I had been through everything there was to go through. I thought I was so smart. And, you know, looking back on that kid, I was, I was pretty freakin' smart. Just not nearly as smart as I am now. Because guess what? NOW, I know that, even for as much as I know, I don't know jack.
Today, sifting through interior design books at Barnes and Noble, I read a little blurb about accepting the flow of decorating and remodeling and maintaining a home. I read that to create a home we love, we need to first accept that our homes are always in this flow. They are never done. They are always merging from what they were to what they are going to be. Like us.
It's nice to know that I haven't completely lost my lightning-rod-ish flavor. Though this walking nerve has learned to keep itself protected through most of the necessary interactions, from time-to-time, it's still open and exposes enough to feel the jolt. Even from an interior design book.
I'm obsessing about several things right now and one of them is the concept of Home. This is because I have two of them and yet, still, feel as though I don't have one at all. I'm obsessively decorating and re-decorating -- or, at least, making plans to because I think that will settle some thing in my heart. And once that's done, I can just be.
But we can never really just be. None of us. We can sit in meditation. We can soak up moments. But we never just are. As long as we are breathing, we are becoming.
This is not what civilized, normal society wants. Civilized, normal society wants us to Do, or maybe Be but someone who is Becoming (and lives inside that awareness) is much harder to sell to, much harder to make feel less-than (because we have to feel-less than to always want to buy more), much harder to judge and put into their proper boxes. And, kids, my life is about nothing if it isn't about squarely refusing to be put in ANY kind of box.
I have wanted my home to be done, found, simple, one comfortable place, one clear spot on a map but it isn't. My home is Becoming. Both as I decorate it with new paint and flea market finds AND as I stop thinking of it as one concrete place.
Unapologetically, I am re-embracing this weird notion of Becoming. I think it might just be the next big thing to save my life. Let's see.
Become, with Love, Teamies.