Doing

I love working with my hands. I forget that, until i spending some time doing it. I'm always surprised at how much you can accomplish by just doing it.

Today I feel productive and at home - which is weird, because I'm not at home.

I've been thinking a lot about "home" and what that little word means to me. I can't remember the last time I had a place that felt like home. The South Pointe house in Claremore, I guess. It has been 13 years since we sold that house.

I long to feel at home. I wish for a place to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. How long has it been since I've owned a couch?

I'm inspired by the people down here. Their sense of family, the sense of belonging to a people and place is palpable. I don't know who I belong to. I'm not sure where I belong.

I used to embrace that uncertainly. It is what enable me to move away and to try new things. But, I don't want that anymore. I want to belong. I want a family. I want a couch to curl up on and do nothing at all.