Today I am grateful for my home, which is why I retreated to it immediately after work tonight.
My relationship with my home is a bit complex. All of my life I have struggled with the meaning of home and of belonging. Since I was eleven years old, with each parent in a different state, I have felt ties to more than one place. I seem always to be in a state of geographical flux, which may make moving less difficult for me than for other people. I tend not to identify myself with any one place for very long.
All that said, I am falling in love with my current place of residence. It is starting to feel like home to me, instead of merely a very nice house in which I happen to reside. I am beginning to learn its creaks and quirks; I know where the light-switches are in the dark. It is big and quiet and close to the ocean. It is cozy and comforting, grounding and centering, and somewhere I enjoy sharing with friends as much as I enjoy hoarding it with my beloved.
(This entry is part of one month of gratitude.)