Sunday Morning

I have been housesitting for over a week, and I've realized that I love living on my own. It feels good to fully inhabit a space and not worry about waking anyone, or playing music too loudly, or how, when I come home from work or errands, the mood of the house will be.* 

That being said, I've also been aware of my desire to build a home. A family. A garden. A deeply rooted and connected life with a partner and a community. 

This week, I've had time to be quiet. The solitude and silence gave me space to fully experience emotions I've been tiptoeing around for the last four months: feelings of grief, of desires unquenched, of purpose and hope, of inner-strength, assuredness, and resolve.

The emotions manifested through tears (the hearty, oh-my-god-will-the-neighbors-hear-me? kind). I'm grateful for the weeping. It's been a long time since I've cried, and it's cleansing. 

Below are the places, songs, stories, and words that have nourished and delighted me lately:

"Flightless Bird, American Mouth"

"Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain."

 Zoka coffee

"Breaking up is never easy, I know"

Baxter

Chas Tenenbaum: It's been a tough year, Dad.

Royal Tenenbaum: I know, son.

"You are My Sunshine"

Scalamandré wallpaper

Greenlake in the sun!

"Into the Mystic"

Finally, this poem, by Garrison Keillor:

"Oh love that shines in every star

And love reflected in the silver moon.

It is not here, but it's not far.

Not yet, but it will be here soon."

*This is not say I don't like my current living situation. My roommates are quite lovely. But I think this is the "stuff of life" that comes with sharing a house or apartment with anyone: roommates, partners, or family members.