home is an idea that is incredibly important to me. i'm not sure if it's because i'm deeply relational, or that i yearn for a sense of belonging somewhere. either way, i long for that peace of finding a place to call home.
for the longest time i was certain i'd never feel at home and feel settled unless i moved to NYC. i spent days dreaming of the life i might lead there. now though, looking back over the years, i wonder if perhaps that wasn't because i somehow thought i could hide my past and all of my issues tied to it in the midst of the hustle and bustle and sights and sounds of the city.
when i drove up to NC the other day in the cool, overcast, perfect Ali weather, winding around the curves that snake their way through the Nantahala and past the Cullasaja, the craggy cliffs looming both above and below me, then i knew the mountains will always have my heart, and thus always be my home.
it isn't the mass of rock and stone that holds my heart so closely. no, it's the serene quiet, the peace, and the overwhelming beauty that allows me to settle in and be at rest. just sitting on the deck overlooking the rolling field, in the still quiet of the rainy morning, i am cozy despite the chill in the air. i feel as though i'm enshrouded in a deep, peaceful respite, on that has a slow rolling cadence like a low rumble of thunder.
i can see the thick, grey clouds hanging on the mountain tops. the muted color is broken up ever so slightly by hills dappled with the first greens of spring. in the distance i can hear the waterfall rushing over the smooth, old, worn rocks. the damp breeze gently blows across my face like a gentle kiss. this, yes this, is home.
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