CHAPTER TWO POST 4 ▫️ Home is where you’ve been all week

Hello my friends! I miss you all.

Obviously this world has become a much different place since my last post. It seems ridiculous to me to be writing about the definition of home when we’ve all been sheltered in place for days now—over a week for some of us. 

The first couple of days of our housebound-ness were a challenge for me. We were determined to keep some kind of routine in place, but it took a while for me to feel comfortable enough (and, honestly, self-disciplined enough) to get used to the loss of schedule and to find a new groove. It’s better now, and this week, Ashton and I have been taking some of our newfound time to work on long-postponed projects around the house. I started yesterday with decluttering our bedroom, which felt very cleansing. 

I woke up this morning feeling a tad tired and anxious, but I really wanted to be a part of today’s project: reorganizing closets and work supplies. Ashton has a fire lit under him so I can feed off of that for a little while, but between the rain, the shift in my sleep schedule, and too much time indoors, I find my mind wandering way too easily away from tasks at hand and onto familiar and well-trod pathways. 

I look around and I see how much our physical home has changed, just in the past week: bags of trash collected; old clothes packed and ready to donate; floors and counters cleaned; dressers decluttered inside and out; laundry piles getting smaller. It feels good and it feels more like home.

I think about the walks we’ve been trying to take (while we can still get outside—Sonoma County just closed their parks today) and the people we’ve met (at a safe distance); the feeling of community even during a time when we can’t really have the comfort of togetherness or the familiarity of hanging out at our favorite coffee shop, restaurant, or park. Even that guy who yelled at us half-jokingly, “Don’t get near me!” as we approached the same intersection...yeah, even that guy makes me feel like I’m part of my neighborhood, and it feels more like home. 

And of course my mind takes its time gazing at all the faces of loved ones near and far. I remember that it wasn’t long ago that WhatsApp was only for friends outside the US that I chatted with on occasion, that I bristled at the thought of using FaceTime to communicate, and that Zoom was only the name of a television show from my childhood. Now these apps are my lifelines that connect me to my people. We attended a wedding in Brazil that we would have otherwise missed and only seen frozen moments of on Instagram. We joined in a gathering of upwards of 90 friends all at once, waving hello and laughing and sharing space in The Cloud where no virus can catch us, at a time when Ashton and I would have been sitting at home trying to find something new to watch on a screen that doesn’t welcome us back. These faces, even on small screens, back-dropped by bedroom walls and kitchen counters and office spaces, are the faces that remind me that I am part of something bigger. They are more than a distraction; they are a protection. They are part of what keeps me grounded and focused on things outside of myself. They are reflections of compassion and kindness and humor and love. They are part of my home and as these shelter days continue, they become even more so. 

So home has taken on a much different dimension this week; I wonder if it has for you as well. Whatever the case, I hope this post finds you and yours safe, healthy, and calm, and that you are all finding ways to cope with not just the sheltering we all face, but your unique challenges too. I’ve been reminded by several people lately that it’s more important now to be there for each other, and I want to do my part by staying in touch, being present, and doing whatever I physically, emotionally, and spiritually can for others. How to do this is the trick, but I’ll view it as a creative challenge and keep looking for ways to share the love, just as many of you have already. No matter where this current situation leads us, I’m confident that we can come through it and find ourselves better people, friends, and family members—and feeling more at home with ourselves and each other.