Hi.
We are back at Camp Ifland after a two-week house-sitting adventure in Seattle. We are so close to closing on our house that we can almost taste it; we're signing some more papers tomorrow, and we may have keys as soon as Friday. Almost, but not yet. I feel so ... I don't know ... worldly and selfish for yearning for our own house so badly. Those are ugly words, but the truth is that I am yearning to put down roots. I am yearning to put clothes away in our own closets and dressers. I am yearning to hide our suitcases away in storage. I am yearning to meet neighbours and start investing in a community. I am yearning for routine. Sometimes I want to shout it out. The next moment I want to clamp my hand over my mouth, silencing my sense of entitlement by giving thanks for all I *do* have. I make a lousy nomad. I gave some bananas and some individually-wrapped cheeses to the man who was actually homeless and asking for food outside of the grocery store last night. I hope that this relatively plush adventure of mine can awaken in me some sense of our common homelessness -- I could be him, he could be me, and I'm not so entitled as I might think.
This world is not my home, I'm just a-passin' through...
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Out and about in Seattle: visiting The Locks (aka The Boat Elevator!) in Ballard.
It's interesting that the yearning you are experiencing for home is not unlike what we are SUPPOSED to feel daily! :) It's a good sign....we are just passing through...I can't wait to unpack my soul next to yours in eternity. :) I miss you, friend. Love you.
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