A home without a home

How does one deal with homesickness when one has no literal physical place to call home? Home then must not be identified as an external place or person. Those have been surrendered and have proved interchangeable. Home must be identified as an internal place found only within one's self. When there is no where else to return to, everything that is behind that latticework of all the self's projected toughness and strength, the vulnerable spirit is all that is left to call home. For if home is a place of peace and a place of resolve, then what better place where one cannot escape from being true. Sounds torturous I know, but it's all I have.

I keep worrying over this. I fear that I've given up my apartment and my books and my bed, and after I've thrown it all away, I fear that I'm unidentifiable. I have surrendered all physical identifiers. I have surrendered safety and am stuck with courage. And I am in search for what, I do not know.

However, I am opening myself to freedom. To a real freedom where I am carrying everything that 'home' could possibly mean and carrying it along in me. And maybe that's where the real fear lies. Not in the giving up of the physical home. But that I am now, meaning my spirit, my memories, and my neurosis, are solely responsible for maintaining everything that means and identifies something so safe as a home. A life's worth of existence. A life's worth of experience. But both those things surrendered to the inevitable--entropy.

And maybe that's the key to unlocking the freedom from this so called fear of known failure. Just that. I have to surrender to the fact that memory and that my own capacity to remember is forever flawed. I as my own home can never house all the seconds of existence. The shelves needed to serve the plentitude of memories and experiences experienced in the twenty-nine years of living so far are and will never be available me. I'm limited. Maybe it's better this way. Maybe not being able to remember or hold on or 'house' a life's worth of living is better for my own survival. Or maybe I have to take my shaking hand off and open the door and say, 'I'm letting go so I can keep living, and that is just okay.'


-Remoy