Home is Where the Heart is


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I’m having a GRRR moment.  I want to load slides onto photo place where I can sell them.  Needed scanner.  Landlady said use mine.  I hooked it up, got slides out, all excited.  Yes, this is a way to earn interim money and be creative!

The bleeding thing doesn’t work.   Keep getting infuriating message saying device isn’t hooked up.  So what am I supposed to do?  Send it to online dating?  Mmmm.  Have hit dead end.   Don’t like dead ends.  Tantrum impending.

Right. Love those tantrums.  So I need: scanner that works, and decent digital camera to take more photos.  Don’t know how I can get them but know I need them.  It’s all I can do for now.  Move away from what’s frustrating you if you can’t do anything about it, Jennifer.   Okay, okay.

I walked some of the way to therapy this morning.  It’s a cold quite rainy day, so beautiful.   The air crisp, the ocean a pale acqua, lots of white in the sky.   My heart felt full.   How lucky I am to have found a person to help me make sense of everything, and lead me away from my own dead end type of thinking and living.

What a painful nightmare if your life is twisting in the wind, your experiences are taking you further and further away from what makes sense to you, your world keeps imploding, and you don’t know how to stop the roller coaster.

It used to be my story, but it’s not any more.  Now?   I’m surrounded by amazing people who all seem to really love me just for who I am, and who let me love them too.   As far as dreams go, that’s been number one since I was v. small.   Suddenly am feeling that I have a home.  Flipping marvelous.

Never felt I had one.   I wandered around the world, trying to flee gruesome demons, riding my bicycle, doing adventurous things, trying to settle, trying to find home geographically.  Is it here?  Is it here? Nope.  Kept having to move from one place to the next; that small child within crying out where’s home, am I ever going to have a home?

Whoopidie doodah.  Wouldn’t you know, it’s not geographical.  It’s right deep within.  You know how to recognize it when you’ve cleaned up the inner mess, and can risk being real and people love you anyway.  It’s the love and the real connection, from heart to heart, that counts.  It’s my home.  I’m not saying I don’t want the physical one too.  Of course I do, I’m not that spiritual, but first things first.

What have I done with this day so far?  Haven’t sung, played piano, written script or anything.  Let’s see.  Getting to therapy and back – 2 hours, v. good, v. worth it.  Therapy – 1 hour, spectacular. Wrestling with dumb scanner – 4 hours, eugh. Tantrum – 1 minute v. high quality.  Blog – 2 hours, of which time spent writing and deleting – 1 hour.

Minutes spent contemplating how life doesn’t always give you what you want but it gives you what you need, so you can make that connection with people and yourself – plenty.   Gotta get that in place first.   Without it, anything else I build is a house of cards.  I’ve done house of cards.  It’s not all it’s built up to be.

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