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I’m home after a few weeks of bopping around. Traveling while you have a home is, it seems to me, harder than traveling when you don’t have a home. When you’re homefree, you make your space wherever you are. It’s a skill, living out of a suitcase, out of your laptop, out of your brain. You work where you’re plunked down. You become part of the landscape. It’s something I’m good at.

Having a home, thinking about it, about the work that’s waiting for me, about the bills arriving in the mailbox, about the space that is mine — all of it makes it harder for me to let go, to be in the now, to settle myself.

Coming back, I’m thrilled to be home. But I’m ready to go away again, in a different way this time. I want to walk the El Camino. I want to canoe a thousand miles. I want blisters and bad hair and a backpack that’s getting lighter by the mile. A heart that’s getting lighter by the acre.

How can one want everything? How can I want a home to come back to and no home at all? How can I want the insecurity of my own space and yet the security of owning nothing?

Maybe that’s not the real question. Maybe the real question is: How can I have it all? I joke about getting a sugar daddy or momma. I joke about the day when my novel will become a best-seller, a movie with famous people, an award winner. But really, there has to be a way to make these things happen, to have everything I want. I’m smart. I’m willing to work hard. I’m innovative.

I know I’m not alone in this… this duality. This desire. I know it’s a white whine, a privileged dilemma. Oh, I know. I know. And still. Here it is. What’s a girl to do? Is it enough that I get to go places in my words, in my worlds? What about the real-life dreams, the ones that make my body ache with want, the ones that don’t get filled up with FB posts and pithy texts?

I want to pilgrimage. Walk three hundred miles with a bag on my back. I want to spend ninety miles on a river. I want to make words that change worlds, make worlds. I want to be the girl next door and kiss the girl next door and not have a next door. I want. I want. I want.

Do you?

Kiss kiss bang bang, s.

~

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