Home.

"And I am struck once again by the unutterable beauty, terror, and strangeness of everything we think we know."
-Edward Abbey

I walked across the backyard barefoot to sit under this bush that's grown into a tree. My grandma and mother used to sit here mornings and drink coffee together. This morning the wind rushes through the leaves of the tulip tree stirring a gathering hush, hush. On my way to the glider I peeked between the thick squash leaves and spotted survivors of my lazy gardening and felt proud (for the little help I offered the magic that seeds unfold and grow into food.) The summer has settled into itself-- rich, full, slow-- and lent me grace to wait for the slow lessons of ordinary life. I grasp the strands of my dreams as they slip out of memory and realize I am less anxious, less afraid of this year-- of remaining in one place, especially this hometown that has always felt more like a launch pad then a resting space. Does it matter? Does your birthplace have to become a home at some point? Probably not. But, there is a quiet sense of calm in me-- that this is right, that I have much to learn from this place, from my family, from the way the past is never quite finished with us.

Earlier today I read a piece from Vela about a year spent in Mongolia and wondered along with the author at these worlds I carry along inside me:

 Mongolia changed everything – how I live, how I see the world, how I see myself. When you travel, you tend to cultivate a persona different from that of your everyday life... I remember thinking: one, what if I lived with the same persona I traveled with, and two, if I could manage here by planning only one step ahead instead of ten, instead of trying to see the whole road – well, couldn’t I manage my life like that too?
...It makes me think that perhaps, my facility with the language had less to do with having a “good ear” and more to do with being so open: without buffers, so that everything around me in Mongolia came right on in. Did I go there without buffers or did the buffers disappear when I arrived? Is it the place that opens the traveler or the traveler who opens because she is traveling to that place?

This year I'll be working for Alternative Directions, helping run a mentorship program for children of incarcerated parents and facilitating re-entry workshops at the women's prison.  I am full of anticipation for this fall, for the newness and oldness of this place... (especially to move past being 17 years old when I am here.) I feel hopeful. I want to continue experiencing this place with the magic of a traveler, with buffers down, full of curiosity, risk, listening, and patience for myself and others.

Lari articulated wonderfully a tension I have been living this summer-- the struggle of feeling like an injustice-tour-guide, the way church has flooded me with positive and negative emotions, the constant awareness of white privilege, the wondering at when I can offer my voice-- "if we are too politically correct at the expense of our relationships, we will never do anything for fear of the bias we will bring up.  So I'm glad to be conscious, but am so glad that that is a result of living with people and reflecting on that, and want that to keep being the case- that my reflections come from real experience with real people, and that I can be in work, living, and social settings where I can ask my friends- what does this mean to you?  as opposed to making my own judgment."

My mind is on a handful of thoughts-- changing with people even when paths diverge, relationships, what it means to work in my context, new communities, what it means to make commitments to my friends/to place, navigating desire, navigating my hyphenated identity, prayer, ¿Quién es Diosito? I am thankful for the thoughtful questions my friends are always asking-- questions that help me understand myself and who they are in their own mapped territories, questions that narrow, widen, or focus our scope and questions that hack through brush to open up uncharted lands... so many questions to live into continually!