Monday, November 19, 2007

• "Home"

  I am surrounded by all of the things that are familiar to me; and yet, nothing around me is familiar.   It's as if I am watching a play and am familiar with the scene--the lines, actors, costumes, even props--however, the set, the context within which everything is viewed, has changed into something completely unknown to me. 

  It's odd how odd I expected coming "home" to be, but it is odder still how little oddity there really is in the situation.  I am home alone, lying on my couch in my living room, typing on my computer.  Sadie is at my feet.  The phone rings--even the ring is familiar.  The lamp behind my head is the same as it has always been.  The piano is the same.  The mirror on the wall is the same. 

  I feel at home. 

  I guess it serves as a reminder to me that my home is not my location on the globe, but rather my location in reference to what I love.  So, for now, I am at home. 

  ***Fun little fact for you:  I live across the street from a pedophile.  No joke.  He's a convicted sex offender, recently let out of prison.  There were signs all over the neighborhood.  I guess the kiddos didn't stop by his house on Halloween.     

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