I feel harborsick. I
am not homesick because I don't really feel a sense of home anywhere. I read books about people who are so
comfortable and familiar in their towns, homes, work, and relationships and I
don't feel that right now. I do feel
that there are familiar harbors – people and places that I feel comfortable and
"at home" with. But, I don't have a spot I long to put
anchor.
There is not a place I
belong. I want to claim my familiar harbor. A feeling of belonging and purpose and where
I know I am always welcome and I can be completely comfortable and myself. I want to feel there is a place I can return
to and feel I fit. A port where everyone
speaks my language. A Cheers vibe if you will.
I was talking to my sister this morning and she brought up
some ancestral ties to other countries and where we would like to visit. There are a few countries I would like to
visit. Italy, especially, has always called
to me. I love the language and the
art. Yet, it doesn't call me home.
I want to feel a belonging somewhere. I have never liked when people asked me where
I am from. I used to think it was
because I had moved so much but it is more. I don't really feel "from" anywhere.
There are fragments of culture, indoctrination, exposure, experience, genetics,
and learning that all come together to make me.
When I go to Pennsylvania and visit some of my family, the
mountains and the trees call to me and I feel a connection to the land. There is part of me that longs for that
landscape. There is part of me that
hankers for the sea and the south and part that respects the education and
solidity I got in Iowa. I value the practicality,
brains, strength, and stubbornness I got from my parents. When I was younger, my grandmother's house
was home. It was the place I identified
in my mind and heart as where I could go to and feel safe and loved. She is gone now and the house is someone
else's home. All these places and more
are embedded in my being.
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