I'm taking a qualitative research class which is amazing, yet super trippy. It is about lived experience and we are exploring various "phenomena." I will be writing more about the class because it is a genuine mind-opener about our culture, the need for story-telling and what clients are doing in therapy. This assignment was on to write a letter to someone on "home."
3120 Corona Trail #308. I sit here at home, reflecting on my cozy nest... this quiet healing oasis which has held me since 2004. I remember move-in day, when dismay turned into delight - I bumped a piece of furniture into the wall and left a huge scratch, but then remembered this is MINE, I own this sucker and can do what I want! Right away the “Home” creation process began with the physical things; warm paint colors on the walls, a soft leather recliner, gentle lighting, a well-stocked tea drawer, and (many years later) the kitchen / bath remodel. Every day I notice such a clearness in the air as the southern light washes the front room, highlighting my sweet view of the flatirons. My nervous system cools down and I breathe more deeply than I do anywhere else; it seems like my lungs expand with the walls and the floor, like they are breathing me.
And then there are the beautiful souls who fill my home, namely little Willow and you, Shaya, my fellow spinster, my neighbor, my best friend! I can hardly count the number of meals, hours of television (the horror!) and rich conversations we have shared here in this home. We seem to live in the kitchen, you tutoring me on which herbs to put in a meatloaf, debating about all the things you can make with teff, and me pretending like I’ll help with the dishes.
But beyond the time we spend together in my condo, I feel like you are my home; the comfort I feel with you has wheels - be it in a restaurant, working out at the gym or a late night movie. We are secure and safe together like family. I can be cranky, I can get mad at you and I can kick you out when it’s past my bedtime. You have come to occupy the gentle place in my heart (my true home) that makes me feel deeply content with my life, exactly as it is. You are my primary companion and confidante; the holder of my secrets, my struggles and my everyday life. Our friendship and the time we spend together remind me of this lovely bit of writing by Romanyshyn:
“The poet connects the spider’s work and the work of our souls. We, like the noiseless, patient spider launch filaments out of ourselves, threads of hope and dream, until the bridge we need with the world and with others is formed. The gossamer threads of meaning we fling catch hold somewhere and, for a moment, secure us in place.”
We walk the spider’s web, from the floors of my home through the stories of our days. Thank you for being on the other side of that bridge and helping me fully inhabit my life. I am at home with you.
Love and many blessings forever more, H