Some things I learn from my bones out.
Losing everything, I finally became less homeless somehow.
Today I can say if me and my babygirl come to our fork in the road, I would want the face I adore to turn toward what she knows of sun... and love will still be. If my kid skidmarks on her journey, even if she grows up and never comes home again, the place in my heart for M will always be as simple as the night I blessed all four corners of her room, promising to keep a scared child safe. Even if my landlord betrays me, the boogeyman scales my back gate, or all my treasures infused with magic are destroyed by fire, as long as I still feel ... home will still be right here ... even if "right here" is on another coast or someplace beyond today's vision.
"Home" is not real estate, not a garden so delightful it outlives you, nothing we sell or score in a yard sale or put in a box for safekeeping. Foundation is not pier and beam, concrete slab, or even solid earth. A solid foundation is learning to love yourself. Foundation is a family who takes a second to taste how fine and pure love is. People who see you clearly enough to know what you need to keep you strong, who care enough to find a way to nourish the best part of you, people brave enough to acknowledge and honor their heart and yours. Loved ones so worthy, you become a better human yourself. Honest regret when fear mucks up our intent. Patience. And stupid, blind hope. That's what Home is made of.
The true currency of living is love, and all other desperations are merely fool's gold, yet we can't even measure how many people each of us has touched. No legacy of our life's work framed like a plaque on the wall, no karmatic scoreboard for helping more people than we hurt. If I impacted others with my web sites, gave the world a sweet kid who knows what love is, touched an old dog's head at the exact second hope needed to break his ol' heart wide open, then surely I lived. If I touched others with writing or art that I consider mostly undiscovered, or told a student their writing was really good, never realizing theirs will be the book you hold while mine will be the one never born, that is love. Tragic human condition, to never glimpse the depth of our own roots, never realizing what seeds we've sown, good or evil. Love is the only thing that truly makes a difference while we are here, and especially after we are gone. I still believe love prevails.
I reduce human motivation to love or fear, and am constantly awed by the illusive ways the two can eclipse. When you put love into the world, it ripples out beyond Home, farther than any eye can see. The same is true of hate. We should only follow those who quietly lead from love instead of those who trumpet from lack because the heady distraction of being known has nothing to do with virtue or value. When we dig through the slimy muck, fear is usually nothing more than love twisted and gasping, or in love's true absence, nothing but an evil rotting hole where winning is all. Love doesn't make us naive. Fear of seeing renders us blind. I will force my eyes open with my own fingers until I learn to recognize the enemy more clearly. I will do that out of Love.
To all the friends and family I miss ... if ever loved you, hope you felt it. I gave love away like confetti in a parade; easy, because you're fawkin amazing people. Regret I didn't yet know how to let you love me back full blast, but please know you sustained me just by reaching out. Truthfully, I was scared to go beyond the victorious miracle of surviving and into the real work of healing. Why? Because I found no safe place to mend. I knew I risked all that was dear if I dared jump. And yes, if you are wondering if I mean you. Yes. You.
But raggedy-ass true-blue Love lept right alongside me! Who knew? Had my eyes closed tight and could not have felt more alone at the time. And yet, here we are. Home again and learning about this whole mending thing.
Some things I learn from my bones out. We are here to love and be loved. Everything else is just a drug, the infection of fear, or death. As long as there is breath in me, tender will be the most solid place I can ever know in this life.
That's the truth as best as I can see it today.
Today I can say if me and my babygirl come to our fork in the road, I would want the face I adore to turn toward what she knows of sun... and love will still be. If my kid skidmarks on her journey, even if she grows up and never comes home again, the place in my heart for M will always be as simple as the night I blessed all four corners of her room, promising to keep a scared child safe. Even if my landlord betrays me, the boogeyman scales my back gate, or all my treasures infused with magic are destroyed by fire, as long as I still feel ... home will still be right here ... even if "right here" is on another coast or someplace beyond today's vision.
"Home" is not real estate, not a garden so delightful it outlives you, nothing we sell or score in a yard sale or put in a box for safekeeping. Foundation is not pier and beam, concrete slab, or even solid earth. A solid foundation is learning to love yourself. Foundation is a family who takes a second to taste how fine and pure love is. People who see you clearly enough to know what you need to keep you strong, who care enough to find a way to nourish the best part of you, people brave enough to acknowledge and honor their heart and yours. Loved ones so worthy, you become a better human yourself. Honest regret when fear mucks up our intent. Patience. And stupid, blind hope. That's what Home is made of.
The true currency of living is love, and all other desperations are merely fool's gold, yet we can't even measure how many people each of us has touched. No legacy of our life's work framed like a plaque on the wall, no karmatic scoreboard for helping more people than we hurt. If I impacted others with my web sites, gave the world a sweet kid who knows what love is, touched an old dog's head at the exact second hope needed to break his ol' heart wide open, then surely I lived. If I touched others with writing or art that I consider mostly undiscovered, or told a student their writing was really good, never realizing theirs will be the book you hold while mine will be the one never born, that is love. Tragic human condition, to never glimpse the depth of our own roots, never realizing what seeds we've sown, good or evil. Love is the only thing that truly makes a difference while we are here, and especially after we are gone. I still believe love prevails.
I reduce human motivation to love or fear, and am constantly awed by the illusive ways the two can eclipse. When you put love into the world, it ripples out beyond Home, farther than any eye can see. The same is true of hate. We should only follow those who quietly lead from love instead of those who trumpet from lack because the heady distraction of being known has nothing to do with virtue or value. When we dig through the slimy muck, fear is usually nothing more than love twisted and gasping, or in love's true absence, nothing but an evil rotting hole where winning is all. Love doesn't make us naive. Fear of seeing renders us blind. I will force my eyes open with my own fingers until I learn to recognize the enemy more clearly. I will do that out of Love.
To all the friends and family I miss ... if ever loved you, hope you felt it. I gave love away like confetti in a parade; easy, because you're fawkin amazing people. Regret I didn't yet know how to let you love me back full blast, but please know you sustained me just by reaching out. Truthfully, I was scared to go beyond the victorious miracle of surviving and into the real work of healing. Why? Because I found no safe place to mend. I knew I risked all that was dear if I dared jump. And yes, if you are wondering if I mean you. Yes. You.
But raggedy-ass true-blue Love lept right alongside me! Who knew? Had my eyes closed tight and could not have felt more alone at the time. And yet, here we are. Home again and learning about this whole mending thing.
Some things I learn from my bones out. We are here to love and be loved. Everything else is just a drug, the infection of fear, or death. As long as there is breath in me, tender will be the most solid place I can ever know in this life.
That's the truth as best as I can see it today.