So I am back from Australia. And I had s fantastic time there and I wish I could be headed back there now. This time around Brisbane became my home more than any other time I visited.
Now that I am back here, I am realizing that Brisbane isn’t the first place that’s become home for me, and it probably won’t be the last.
This feeling may be predominate in this moment because I am without a house or even a room of my own.
A couple of months before I finished the MA I had to move out of my apartment. My belongings were packed up and moved into storage. My pets and everyday items were shoved in my car and taken to my very gracious aunt and uncle. I moved a few things in over their categorized and decorated home and lived there for a few months. And it became a home I could go to during an insanely stressful time.
And then I graduated, packed up all of those everyday items and moved them back to my parents’ house. I stayed there the night before we all got into a plane and flew across the ocean where we lived in Brisbane, Australia. And when they left two weeks later to come home here, my sister and I stayed. And during my time in Brisbane it became my home during a restful and formative time.
And then we flew back here. I’ve been home here a week, and I’ve stayed in four different houses in the last week house sitting and catching up with friends and family.
This time has been very good and I wouldn’t change it. And I’m finding that not only is my house divided because I amd sleeping in different places with all my housewares packed and stored away, but my home is divided as well because my heart calls several places around the world home. And though this might be high on my list of difficult and painful experiences, I am not sad at all for having my home divided. Because the division actually makes me work harder to stay connected to the people I love.
So though a divided house might mean the end of a country, I will work hard to make sure it isn’t the end of me.