There is that certain point in your life where you become homeless, even if you have a roof over your head your sense of home becomes a land of confusion. For all of us there’s a point of transition that for some of us continues on for years or lifetimes. I used to know where everything was, my life had order and my clothes were hung up neatly in my closet. Living out of suitcases and boxes for three years now, I used to be between Tampa and New Port Richey every weekend packing up my bags every weekend from what used to be my childhood home.
Then it was off to college, back and forth between different dorm rooms every semester and then back home again. I guess I paid $30,000 to learn how to pack a room. Then came the traveling in between, to New York City and Europe every time I turned around I was packing up and unloading another suitcase. Sometimes my suitcases sat half unpacked for months as life swirled up upon me. When you travel you really find out that you can survive with much less than all you own, I remember coming home from Germany for a month and cleaning out half of my closet knowing I didn’t need ALL of that stuff.
It seems that even still today, even after three months in Greenville. I still don’t have an address and many of my things are still in sealed bags and boxes. I feel that I will be staying in Greenville as long as possible, it should feel like home… I love it here in my foothill home among the mountains. Yet there is still that tinge of sorrow for places once been, I still miss the warmth of the fireplace during the winter time, summer nights dancing at The Castle, the rainy nights upon streets of Leipzig. A world citizen, belonging to where ever I create memories. My suitcases will always be packed in my head, full of times long past. People that are missed beyond words, the ones I haven’t met yet.
Today returning back to Florida to what used to be home for so many years is strange, sleeping in my old bed and picking up the pieces of the things I left behind. It always feels like a step back, but I look how much I have moved forward in just the last couple of months. I miss Greenville already… I guess home goes beyond walls or location, it’s where we choose to place our pathways. The wonder of looking back on what was a year ago, where I called home at the time. It’s amazing how much has changed (not only hair color!) but I would have never thought I would find the right path. Find your way and you will find your home.
What makes a home to you?