Thursday, August 25, 2016



Turn to page 103 of the nearest book and make the last word of that page the first word of your next blog post. That's what the prompt said to do.* 

I picked up Richard Rohr's The Naked Now and turned to page 103. The last word is "elsewhere."

In so many ways, it's such an appropriate word to begin with. In so many ways, it's the perfect word to describe my summer. I've had a summer of elsewhere

I've traveled a ton, sleeping about a third of the nights in the past few months in beds that are not in my own home. I've been on many airplanes, rolled many miles in rental cars (though they were kilometers while I was in Canada). Even as I write this, I'm sitting on a beach on the North Carolina shore, where we are staying this week. I am elsewhere this very moment. 

It's the week before life settles back into a familiar rhythm of school mornings and dance/tae kwon do afternoons. The suitcases used during the summer of elsewhere will be put away in the attic and I will be (for the most part) staying home. 

I see the word elsewhere and I ask myself, am I ready to be settled? Am I ready for the everyday, in and out, repetition that is my life as a mom? Or will my heart still be elsewhere?

It's a bit of a contradiction, really. I'm more homebody than a thrill-seeker. I don't love the unexpected. I'm a bit of a scaredy-cat, really. But I AM a free spirit and, reluctantly I admit, disinterred in being bored. 

My life is lovely and I'm grateful for it. I have a wonderful little family and a small, quaint home with two beloved old dogs. I have yoga classes to teach, delightful students who make my heart feel full. It's all good

And yet. 

I'm under the beach tent and the wind is whipping through my pony tail. Waves crash on the shore, in my line of sight just beyond my fingertips as they tap this post on the screen of my iPhone, which is enclosed in a plastic baggie to protect it from the sand and salt. I am peaceful, happy, content here. The summer of elsewhere is still my reality and yet, the reality of life at home looms. 

I've run all over this summer. I've played and learned and rested and worked. I've been challenged and tried to heal my bruised-up heart. I've attempted to find elsewhere all the things I haven't found at home, while being still. 

And now it's time to reorient. To get small. To stay in one place. To make soup and volunteer in my kids' classrooms and to wash loads of laundry with leotards and school uniforms, to find the martial arts belts and homework folders they've misplaced and to start to make lists of all the things needed to make a magical Christmas for everyone, including me. 

Can being home be enough?

Or will I long for elsewhere?

*this is another prompt from Micah Murray's Make Blogging Fun Again course. Check it out.

1 comment:

  1. Please write more!!!! I love hearing about your quaint home and busy schedule, and i am happy you are enjoying your elsewhere at the moment. <3