All my life I have been living in this world, and only now do I search for a home. But all celebration is lost in words like “parcel” and “lot” and this makes it hard to find the perfect place when what I want is the valley that reaches up to the mountain that touches the sky that holds the clouds that rain down into the river that nourishes the land I walk on.
All my life I have been living–my hair an extension of the wind, my feet two seeds waiting to be planted, my fingers earthworms digging in the soil–and only now do I post signs that read “looking for land,” though I find land everywhere I go, though I am constantly surrounded by land.
Tax maps and septic plans, listings and for sale signs: pieces of paper with boundary lines and words that do not show the curve of a ridge line or the mix of grasses and legumes in a pasture. Half of me yearns for that paper titled “Deed”, and half of me laughs, knowing I am home wherever I can run barefoot and free. And yet, I have had so much time with the wind, and I can hear the land whispering, inviting me to it, and I hear my body asking to be rooted in return.
Coming from a large expanse of land and sky, I can understand you dilemma .I moved here from New Mexico – our driveway was a few miles long and we lived off the grid, just to give you an idea. Best wishes for your search.
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You have such a way with words. You speak frankly and from the heart, and softly. This article strikes a cord. Something about looking for home, which can happen on different levels and something about the absurdity of the idea of delineated lots and territories. Just as we set rules to make sense of our environment, we also step away from simplicity. I enjoy your perspective. Happy home hunting. Perhaps “home” will find you and not the other way around!
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Scribe, thank you. I love the idea of home finding me!
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It happens ya know! You are welcome… I am glad I found you. 🙂
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