Home. Cancers are notorious for cherishing our nests- we have this inherent need to create a nurturing habitat no matter where we go. It has to feel good…it’s why I’m so weird about interior lighting and the way things/places/people smell, and it’s also probably why my house is almost always organized and tidy. Aesthetic order, to me, equals comfort. And I like- well, actually need my space to be comfortable. I’m also a creature of habit. No matter where life takes me, however temporarily, I always migrate back to where I feel most like myself. It’s like there’s an invisible magnet tugging at me, nudging me in the right direction. And wherever I end up, it has to feel like home.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what “home” means. To me, it’s writing, listening to certain music, taking short road trips, cooking, spending time alone, doing things for myself, my son, my home- it’s simply whatever makes me feel most like myself… it’s the feel-good places that draw me to them time and again, the people who make me relax into myself and just be, or a song that comes on that hits me just right. I’ve been listening to one by Jon McLaughlin that has a sweet spot I just never get tired of. I don’t know why, but it resonates with me. And it’s the people in my life I spend time with, who make me think, “Yeah…this is all right.” It’s the friends who are a phone call away- the people who pick me up and remind me why things aren’t that bad when I need to hear it the most. It’s all those things that feel like home to me. Some of it I can define, and the rest- well, it’s just a feeling I can’t explain.

Change is difficult for me because it typically involves chaos in one form or another, at least temporarily. I like order. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like tedium or monotony, but I really like reliable comforts…when you find a groove that works, I believe you follow that groove until it doesn’t work for you anymore. And right now, the world around me is changing. So to find the comfort I naturally crave, I’m surrounding myself with anything that feels like home. And with every passing day spent that way, I’m feeling ever-so-slightly more whole than before. I’m finding solace in the down-time, in the hours by myself. I’m feeling infinitely stronger than I thought I would. I’m finding more peace than I expected. I’m listening to Cake when I need to chill, and Jon or A Fine Frenzy when I need to tap into the emotional stuff that needs to come out…and it will eventually. But there’s something about all of this that feels right. There’s a quiet peace inside me that simply feels like home. And I like it here.