A house, a home; settling down.

This post does a good job of expressing something I've been thinking about for a while now.

Two thoughts collide and conflict in my mind. One is that I love travelling -- I love putting Loiosh's harness on, packing the last few things into the car, and going. The wind in my hair, singing along to the radio, waving for truck drivers to blow their big airhorns -- driving through Winslow, Albuquerque, Cheyenne, Nashville. New lands, new people, a new world to wake up to every morning.

The other is that I'm almost the hell forty, and it's time to settle down. Time to stop moving from one apartment to another, never quite unpacking, never quite sure what's going on next. Time for a house, a garden, a home, somewhere that's mine. Time to put down roots.

Collide and conflict they do, these thoughts, don't they? Unless. Unless.

Unless I work up the nerve, the courage, and (let's face it) the money to go on the road. To boondock, become a gypsy. To carry my home with me, like a snail with its shell.

(I'm all with the cliches today, aren't I? Well...and with reason. Everything I'm talking about reaches way down into the archetypes we all carry within us, that define us. Who hasn't, at least once in their childhood, wanted to run away to join the circus?)

Indeed, at times I've felt that this might be a part of my calling from God. I can see myself a priest -- but I can't see myself going to the same building every Sunday morning, greeting the same congregation, going through the same routine. For the folks who need that, it's available, but for those who need something else...not so much.

Call me the Epistle to the Weird. I see myself doing Mass in city parks, at rest stops, at craft shows before the masses show up. In RV parks and national parks, faire parking lots and SCA events. For the people who won't go into a church, the ones who are convinced they won't be welcome (and who are all too often right), and the ones who hadn't ever considered the idea.

I see being able to visit my mom more than once every couple of years -- in fact, being able to visit most of the people I know far more often than I do now. Being able to have my Chocolate-kitty with me all the time, not just when I'm home. Not having to shut down the online shop when I'm on the road, or ask people to keep an eye on it for me -- because I'll always be able to create new products, to pack and ship them from wherever I am. To be able to do shows all across the country.

At the same time...

I see that garden. I see a house in an old, well-established neighborhood where I can get to know the neighbors and live there for the rest of my life. I see birdhouses and trellises and maybe a couple of chickens. Hanging plants in the windows, a small craft room with a sewing machine and a stack of fabric bins, a well-stocked library.

A place where I can spend the rest of my life with Tim.

...and I just don't know.

More tomorrow, along with a resolution (of sorts) that I know Mother Laura at least has been waiting to hear about for like two weeks. Sorry! Brain's been kinda full.