Minneapolis, MN – Lost and Found (5/4)
Yesterday somebody asked me how I defined home. What did I think of in terms of home.
There are the simple silly answers. Home is where the heart is. Home is where my suitcase is. Home is with my friends.
None of these truly capture the essence of a home. Really I haven’t had a home since the fateful night I was kicked out of Canada. It’s hard to think of those times because they are so far away now. I am separated by a gulf of whiskey, women, shoes, miles and miles.
Each day I wake up somewhere.
Each day I go to sleep somewhere.
I have woken up feeling at home, feeling welcomed and loved among friends. But it is not my home.
I don’t when or if I’m going to settle down. When I think about what I want or when this is going to end all I can imagine is having someone to share this with. It’s not a road that ends.
I have no home. The concept is gone from me until I make a new one.
——
Tonight I go to sleep in Minneapolis, MN after dancing all weekend at Midwest Lindyfest. The event has been amazing. There are many people I’ve known for a few years here. They are warm and welcoming, friends and acquaintances.
I came from San Francisco, CA. I spent almost three weeks there. I miss the quiet of Rye & Carla’s condo and the presence of Moo and Sabbi. They are warm and generous, honest and reliable. They tempt me with California sun and cuddly cats. Yet it was time to continue.
[quote from Song of the Open Road about leaving when it just gets comfortable]
Tuesday I fly to Atlanta. I don’t know what to expect when I get there. As temporary as things are, as fluid and shifting, things have changed there and I wonder how the dynamic will go when I arrive. I’ll be staying at Jo’s, across from Gina’s. Jo will be gone till Thursday – chasing marbles.
——-
One of my favorite moments this weekend was the few moments I got to talk to Falty. He hit the road once when he came back from Sweden. Skipping city to city in the U.S. till he ended up in Seattle. He talked about the loneliness and the feeling of being lost.
It feels like the moment you find yourself you are lost all over again. You look down at the water flowing around you and realize that it isn’t the same water that was there when you last looked.
I have found a lot of peace on this road. I have found myself in a way that I never would have found with someone in the quiet bustle of domestic life. Yet each moment I am born anew into the moment and when I grasp at the moment to find myself I have only found something which has just slipped away.
Get lost. Get found. Rinse. Repeat.
You find yourself only to discover it is a mirror among millions.
Today I’m lost. Tomorrow I’m found.
