I’m sitting here in Bulgaria and over the past day have been feeling homesick – not acutely, but definitely missing my home. Partly it may have to do with the strangeness of the reality of the place I’ve been here, a touristy tacky beach resort called Golden Sands, compared to the incredible natural beauty of the beach and land where I live.
The stronger piece for me, however, as relates to missing home, are the people in my life. As I was just working on a different blog entry, I was listening to a shuffle of all of my music on iTunes and a song came up called Lonely Place by a friend of mine named Raymond Victor, a very talented songwriter/pianist/performer, but also a dear-hearted and bright-spirited man. I had met him when I first started dating Dawn back in 1992/93. She had been waitressing at the Pacific Coast Brewery in Northbeach in San Francisco and Raymond would play and sing there, sporting his bald head and St. Nicholas long white beard, and I’d often stop in to pick her up and listen to him perform. Many years later, I tracked him down over the internet as I wanted to get the words to a song of his that I still love to sing. We became reacquainted and I actually hired him to help me get my electrical panel and some of the wiring together in my home as he is an electrician as well. I know that’s a long preface, but while listening to his song just now, I put on a photo slide show of all the people who were somehow involved in helping me to build my home including many who came to visit and donned construction helmet in the process. I was deeply touched in seeing all these people, all these people that I love.
My life is rooted in people and place, and I suspect that yours is too. We each have our own particular constellation of people and place in our lives, both past and present, and for me, there is nothing that I cherish more than my own constellation. There is a sadder place in me that I don’t have a slideshow of my own personal family to show in my life, but perhaps for me that makes the family that I do have – notably including the friends I have come to love and who have come to love me – so much more meaningful and valuable to me. Just yesterday I received two very sweet messages from different friends of mine who wrote how they appreciate having me in their lives. If you are reading this, then you are very likely one of those appreciated people for me as well, and if not hopefully will be soon enough.
The day before yesterday, Lidia and I took a day trip to Balchik, Bulgaria and while there we sat in a little outdoor restaurant by the sea as many small children frolicked in the surf nearby. In front of us, there was a young man tending in the shade to an ice cream cart. When he got up and walked around a bit, it was clear in his comportment and stride that he was a gymnast or a dancer of some sort. The way that he walked showed such a command of the ground under his feet, yet you couldn’t help but sense that the ground was simply a launching place for his true artistry above. I think that is what friends and family provide for us – the ground beneath our feet to rely and feel secure upon so that we can venture further into the sky, further from home, remaining secure that after a flight of fancy or adventure we can return home to our own ground of simple acceptance and love.