Friday, February 16, 2007


I think I've reached the intermission stage of moving. You know, that stage where you don't quite belong anywhere.

As of March 1, I will have lived in the great craphole of ABQ for nine months. Is it starting to feel like home? No. But Tucson is no longer home, either.

I am homeless.

Or, at least I feel like it. There is some deep desire in my being to have roots somewhere, to belong (obviously, my modern human heritage is not from the nomadic peoples), and I feel rootless right now.

Or perhaps, the problem is not that I lack roots. Perhaps my roots are spread out so far, I can hardly comprehend it. I have friends scattered across the Continental US, not to mention a certain individual who I love deeply who is battling the monkey pox and malnutrition in the DRC. And by friends, I don't mean someone who I know of---I mean friends, people who I speak to on a weekly basis (sometimes daily).

My net has been cast far and wide; to some degree, I believe I can call Phoenix, Seattle, L.A., St. Louis, Providence, DC, Naugatuck, Williamsburg, New York, Fairfax, Manassas and Tucson home because people who I love deeply reside there.

So at this intermission of my life, this lull between leaving my old home and making my new, when I am looking around me, digging frantically in the dirt of ABQ, nuturing my tree, begging it to take root, I need to pause and thank all the homes I have out there, the friends and family with their arms and homes open wide, loving me and supporting me.

You know who you are.

Thank you.


Anonymous said...

roots take time to grow . . . and just the right kind of soil . . . I know you will find both . . . I will too.

Amanda said...

I love you

Anonymous said...


I love you a lot and enjoy your blog thoroughly.