Questions About Leaving

-



I started a little side thing over on Substack.  I don't think I'm up and coming enough to know how to use it tho.

The last couple weeks have been filled to the brim with cleaning jobs and rethinking what "Home" means.

We are Downsizing and minimalizing and reconfiguring what is usual to homing in most people's minds.

So anyway, Many Looming Questions:

When the kids are grown and move away and have their own lives...

How do I let go of the life we made and nurtured for them?

Did I really believe the things I taught them as super important?

Then why am I not here to finish properly? Or did I? Am I?

Why do I feel guilty in leaving?

Is it human thoughts, 'normal' goals, and expectations that keep me from completely relaxing and being on board. Pardon the pun...

Will I go bonkers, tiny living on a boat? And in a container home in Arizona?

Why do we make many ideas of what is normal and culturally acceptable? And let them be our great measuring stick?

Anyway. My mom would break into song about now and belt out, "This world is not my home, I'm just a passin' through". 

I suppose the greatest measure is peace. 

The freedom I feel after making a trip to the dump with garbage is also an euphoric emotion, one that I am finding close to cleaning out a cupboard and removing and donating items that I've carried around with me from house to house and never really used. 

IT IS TIME. I guess. We keep moving forward with this plan. Doors keep opening for this plan. I trust God with this plan.

God made family. I entrust my family to God. He will show us how to home and be home for us and our children. Even as Nomads. Right?

It would be super helpful to hear your thoughts on what home means to you. I imagine it means something different to each of us, but I would still like to know other's perspectives. 



Comments

Post a Comment

I love hearing from you and I want to know your perspective; please share!

Popular posts from this blog

Writing Inspirational and Preachy or Writing Novels

-
I keep being asked when I am going to write my book. It's my own fault...I blabbered about it so many times through out the years.  Years. Yes, it has been years. I am approaching 50 rapidly. And still have not written this book. I think because I have too many ideas and the main passion in my head to write about, which is family and home and marriage and relationships, well, it's just been too intense and special. And I want to protect and respect the people in my life and their journey. So to write openly and honestly and passionately about those things sometimes is just too too much. Too much exposure. Too much risk. Too much rawness and real. I am finding as I grow in age and hopefully in wisdom, that most people are not willing to know or be known. People in general find going deep and being personal a lot like getting a tooth pulled. Nobody wants to admit pain or trials or even pure joy and blessings.  It seems to be a kind of cover. And a little too much bluffing and pr...
Read more

Growing up in the 80's

-
I was born in 1976. Some of my siblings last night, on the family page, went wild with history that was going on at their time of birth. It was interesting. I googled my own but got distracted with remembering the 80's and 90's. The parts of living in a little girls mind without the history lesson, that is... Sunday mornings. Tight braids and hair balls. Unbearably tight braids that made my eyes water. I'd go to the mirror to make sure my eyes weren't squinting. Thick cotton socks stuffed inside black shiny buckle shoes. The buckles were  often stretched out on the shoes, so that they buckled loosely at best. And the hair balls also had lost their elasticity. The Dress...double knit polyester, green with big purple flowers. Hot and scratchy. Jelly shoes and moon boots. If you know, you know. Tights that hung low in the crotch. No such thing as leggings. Big glasses. Didn't care. Could finally see actual blades of grass and leaves on trees. Barefoot, mowing lawn. Gre...
Read more

Ten Days Without a Phone

-
Image
  My good friend, Emily, over at  mrs.emilymiller.substack.com  challenged me to use the opportunity without a phone as a self-improvement thing...see what a phone fast does for you and give report of that to us. I am sad to report that I'm still not sure if there was any self-improvement and what it was, or if I benefited from this experience. I suppose the most shocking thing in all of it was the helpless and bereft feeling I had the whole ten days. That feeling began the moment I realized what I had done. How it happened: I was returning a rental car in Baltimore at 4:00 a.m. I had conquered the strange unpredictable PA roads for three days, navigated the toll system, figured out where to fuel up the car and leave it in the parking garage. Feeling quite successful for four in the morning...we, my daughter and I, grabbed our few bags, locked the car, and walked toward the deposit box for the key and the shuttle waiting for us to take us over to the airport for our six o...
Read more