Goodness, how right my Mama was about the deepening thing.
As I’m moving from undergrad to grad and from DC to Boston and, really, from setting the (professional) stage to slowly starting to explore the set on it, I’m spending three months at home.
To, as my Mama so rightly stated the other day, deepen myself.
To reconnect with my roots without wishing to go back to the way things used to be.
To discern who I am once more.
Surely, in the past weeks, I’ve taken trips to North and South and a bit of West, too, but throughout all of the voyaging, I’ve always returned home again. I’ve always returned to Mama and Dad, to the sisters, to family and friends, to hugs and kisses, to childhood smells and sounds, to books that I’d read at least once before, to homemade jam and fresh bread and ice cream, to sacred places such as the Kölner Dom and Gross St. Martin and our little village chapel the banks of the Rhine and the water of it, too, and the meadows up on the hill behind the house, to our big wooden kitchen table, to our porch, to my own bed.
Throughout the past weeks, I’ve – not intentionally (initially anyway) – deepened the spiritual and emotional parts of me by surrounding myself with environmental and linguistic and other types of familiarity.
In order to process what all of Me truly is and wants to be, I’ve decided to do yet a little more decluttering in my remaining time at home. In order to take good care of all parts of me, it’s therefore time for a bit of physical decluttering as well. So, I’ve decided that for the coming days, my body will be left in its most natural, most familiar state. No make-up and no shaving and no mind-altering substances are all parts of that cleansing time. (Surely, I’ll cut my nails and even put a bra on if I feel like it, but generally, the idea is to just love my body the way it’s made. Just to get to know myself yet a little better.)
I look forward to bike rides and swims and walks,
to rich nutrition and adequate hydration,
to plenty of sleep and meditations,
– to more lovetime with and for myself.
At times in solitude and at other times in the multitude of humanity.