Home

It’s hard to come home after being away.  Not because I wanted to stay where I was, I just didn’t feel ready to come back.  

Five minutes.

There has been a period of five minutes where I felt glad to be home, like I am where I should be.  It was dark outside.  Not all that late, just dark.  We were at my favorite place in this town, visiting my husband’s family who’s visiting from out of town.  I wish I could live there, my soul feels safe there. 

I stepped outside and headed toward the deck overlooking the beach and ocean.  I passed the table that everyone has left their mark on, the table that’s been there, at least, twenty-five years.  I let my fingers lightly caress the grooves and well-worn wood as I passed by.  I let the familiarity spark a momentary fire of positive energy within me. The sound of the waves crashing against the sand filled my ears before the sight filled my eyes.  The sweet smell of saltwater chilled my skin and fed my hungry lungs.  Somewhere in the synergy, I let go of my anxieties and I let peace hold onto me for a few moments.  I leaned on the railing and breathed in deeply.  There was nobody else around, but I felt connected.  I thought to myself, I am home – THIS is home.  I had about five minutes to myself before I headed back.  I knew my husband would wonder where I had gone off to and just as I got to the door he was stepping out to look for me.  

I try to hold onto that feeling of peaceful synergy, to remember it when my anxiety is high or depression has me low.  Always easier said than done, you know?  Remembering and focusing on that feeling, it’s part of going back to basics, part of finding myself again.  I’m working on it. 

AAZ/2015©

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