Fitting the pieces together

I have friends who have places they can go that feed their soul. They go to these places and they are revitalized. They spend hours, just sitting, pondering their lives. Or they simply arrive, look around, say, "yes, this is it," and settle in. They just fit there. I suppose the closest thing I can call it is that feeling of home.

Some people are lucky enough to live in these places. There are people feel this way about their hometown. They never leave, sometimes sacrificing opportunities, but it doesn't matter to them. This is where they want to be. Money or a job won't replace this feeling. When I was younger, I had a harder time understanding this. I thought that they might feel trapped or resentful, but as I get older, I see that it's simply a different choice. It's the sweats over the tight jeans. Sure, the tight jeans make your butt look amazing, but those sweats are what you reach for when you just want to be comfortable and relax.

I know some people who didn't feel this way about where they grew up, but moved to a place that fits them. They came home in their twenties (or later.) I have the Midwestern roots, but there is a part of me that is more at home being an East Coast gal. (My graduate advisor used to always laugh when I would remind him that I was from Ohio; he said he would have guessed Brooklyn.) I like the pace, I like that you can be left alone. I know this isn't for everyone, but I want the kid at Target to ring me up, bag up  my stuff, and send me on my way as soon as he can -- no conversation or chit-chat needed. That said, I still haven't found that place that I would call home. I don't have a place that I need to visit or see or touch.

This is not to say that I'm unhappy where I'm at -- not at all. I really do like it here, and I really loved the Philadelphia area while I was there. But the feeling of fit, well, that's a bit more than I have. I wonder if it is something I can work on or is it something that just happens. Perhaps I need to do it bit by bit: first, a room in the house, then another, then the whole house. But shouldn't a part of of this feeling just happen? Shouldn't that place be reaching for me as much as I reach for it?

Of course, another thing I have come to realize is that home is within me. That I bring the sense of wonder and love and peace to the place that I am at. Perhaps this is what I need to focus on these days. Perhaps the friends of mine who have found home or those places they need to visit have simply tapped into their souls, allowing this to happen.

I am coming home, soon. I believe it.