home
I'm kind of homesick. I surprise myself when I realize this because while thoughts of home are often running through my mind, I am usually too busy, too engaged in what I am doing and the people I am with, to fully feel the weight of it. But quiet time lets feelings settle. Today is my dad's birthday and I really miss him. I really miss everyone. This morning I found myself starting to develop little plans and ideas for how to organize my life when I return home instead of developing plans for what I'm doing in the next few weeks (which honestly is much more urgent! funny how it's sometimes easier to plan something that's so far away - I wonder why that is).
In this little undercurrent of homesickness I've also noticed that I am teaching myself to find home in so many other little things – some from santa cruz, some from the grove house, some from other experiences entirely.
in my body, the weight and shape of it, the way it moves, the way I care for it.
specifically in my arms and hands, which have gotten so much stronger in recent months.
in stella and the way it feels to have control and ownership of this amazing tool.
in the sound of olive oil sizzling in the pan and the smell of garlic and onions.
in the many little habits and rituals I've picked up from others along the way, and how it feels to carry them with me: in color-organizing my google-calendar, practicing meditation, recording my dreams, almond-scented soap, yogurt after meals.
in my backpacks (mini and mega), and the careful arrangement of objects inside them.
in my physical therapy exercises, refined over a year in santa cruz.
in waking up after a good rest.
in drawing.
in journaling.
in conversations.
in improv.
Writing that last one surprised me a bit. Nadine asked me what the hardest part of this year has been so far, and the first thing that came to mind for me was confidence, feeling like I deserve to be on stage. Feeling like I belong. A month ago in London I was listening to an improv podcast and frantically flipped open my journal to record the advice that had been given in the interview - I scrawled in big, dark letters, imprinting the next several pages with the severity of my writing:
“THE FIRST THING YOU HAVE TO DO IS DECIDE YOU BELONG.”
