Go back and Get It

I arrived in New York yesterday after a pretty amazing (and exhausting) trip home. 

I tend to feel more rejuvenated after Thanksgiving. There is something about being around my very small but energetic family that replaces the dread and doom feeling that usually persists the weeks leading up to the holiday. And while 2016 has been fucking terrible in some very extreme ways, I tend to always feel overwhelmed and melancholy before Thanksgiving. This year was no different.

There is an old African word Sanfoka which refers to this image of a strong bird with a long neck that it uses to reach an egg that is resting on it's backside. The term Sanfoka translates "to It is not wrong to go back for that which you have forgotten". I saw the image of this proverb on a gravestone last spring while I was home for a wedding that never happened.

Charleston, much like New Orleans, is surrounded by graveyards and on one stone was the image of a bird with it's head turned around reaching for an egg. I was sort of transfixed by the bird and meaning behind it so much so that I want to eventually get a tattoo of it because I relate so much to the meaning. I often worry that I am too much of a malleable person. I change so quickly based on the situation that I understand that I come across hard to understand. So going home for me has always been this time where I can reflect on where I come from and retain some of the things I feel I've lost during my constant adaptations. I am humbled by my time home, it's like base for me: a place where I can rest and regroup and maybe sip some water before I head back out into the world.

And that is pretty much what I did for a whole week. My mom made my old bedroom up and I read books I haven't touched from college, scribbled down some story ideas, slept a lot and reflected on the girl who used to call that place her primary home because she wasn't sure how or if she could build a life outside of what she knew. It, along with hanging out with my nephew, drinking with my brother and bonding even more with my mom, was superb and rejuvenating. I was almost giddy with the thoughts of coming back because I want to continue being this boss ass adult that i've suddenly become. Life is so strange. 

Of course I am a person who constantly thinks about what's next. I am such a planner that it bugs me not to have goals to work towards. So while I was home I set goals. I want to volunteer, I want to write a novel, I want to travel, I want to meet someone and I think I want to own a home. The last one is the hardest but also on the top of my list of achievable feats. I love my town and I think I want to call it home. I know it seems impossible to be a single person trying to become a home owner...but why not. I mean obviously this isn't going to happen overnight but 2-3 years it could be a real possibility if I continue playing my cards right. 

Though I am not in the market at the moment, it hasn't stopped me from stalking a few places since my return. The gem in the photo is an actual house, in my actual town that is decently priced. I adore it or the idea of home ownership and I don't see why I can't continue making great things happen in my life. Sure the novel writing and meeting someone would be perks but if I could do this on my own, I would feel one step closer to....good. 

The future is sort of ambiguous right now. I am still anxious and nervous and often full of blues. But when I was home I realized how far I've actually come since leaving 8 years ago. I've surprised myself and am shocked by my tenacity. And because i'm not sure what's next in the universes master-plan for me I can start working on the small things. I can continue setting goals for the life that I want to live and lead and share with the world.