I don’t have a home.

Of course, I have the shed, that’s where I live right now. I have a roof over my head, but I don’t feel “home” anywhere. No where feels like that place where I just belong.

If I do have a home, I certainly don’t know where it is and I’ve spent most of my adult life searching for “home”.

It’s definitely not where I grew up.

One of the many places I’ve lived at since leaving my Mum’s place 10 years ago came close to feeling like home. I had community, I had a fabulous social life, I felt like I belonged there at that time.Now? I don’t know. It’s still a beautiful place. My community have long since moved on. Perhaps there’s community there now who are more relevant to my lifestyle now? (read: not spending my nights knitting scarves and playing pool poorly while drinking pints of water (I’m a non-drinker, remember?) at the local pub then walking out to the carpark where my kombi was parked & crawling in to bed)

I’m loathe to keep moving around trying to find home. I have young children, one of whom has made it quite clear to me that she’d like to stay put somewhere, she’d like to make some friends and not move away from them.

I’ve justĀ  spent the last two weeks “back home”, you know, where I grew up.

Being in Albany these last few months I’d begun to think that where I grew up could actually be my home, since Albany so plainly isn’t.

All it took was two weeks back there to remind me that is fool’s thinking!

So, we’re back to the drawing board. Luckily we’ve got a few half devised plans still scribbled on the drawing board though and they’re worth revisiting.

We’ll stay put, for the time being, in “not-home”. We have to, Bean’s got to finish what he started here. It’s nice, in a way, having something that anchors us to this place for now. We can’t run away before we’ve formed a new plan and thoroughly researched it before acting on it.

I could view it as being trapped, and I’m certain there’ll be days when I do, but I think I’ll just spend my energy viewing it as an opportunity to pause and reflect for a while instead.

The bed on wheels that was my “home” for several months


posted by wildecrafted in home and have Comments (2)

2 Responses to ““home””

  1. Cybelle says:

    I hope you find an area that calls out to you soon. It is hard when you feel displaced that it makes you resistant to put roots down. I know how you feel.

    • Kimberley says:

      Thanks. I’m definitely resistant to putting roots down here. I know the reasons why though, so I don’t feel so much like I have to resist that feeling of resistance, if that makes sense?

      I have been wondering, if I don’t feel a connection to this land because it’s not mine? My ancestors invaded it & took it for their own, but it’s not actually their homeland, so it’s not really mine either. Maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s just that I’m too damn fussy?! ha


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