The Road that Leads to Home

... the road that leads to and from my present home ...

I can’t tell where I live anymore.

Metaphorically I live mostly in my head.

I try to attend at the very least to doing some daily exercise to honour my body, but that is only so that I can continue to live in my head.

I have been thinking a lot about where my real home is.

 ...flowers on my present kitchen table...

I think about having a bed to sleep in, a suitcase or a closet for some clothes, a toothbrush for hygiene, a computer in place of a pen and paper, a purse that holds cash and credit.

And oh yes, access to the internet so that I can figure out why streets have certain names, or what the reviews of the Ring Cycle are saying, or even to help me find phone numbers.

That seems to be all that is necessary for me.

sunset falls on Woodside Lane

I left some of my belongings here in London the last time I left. Now that I am back, I can’t find what I thought I left, no matter where I search. Now this is really making me laugh.

Packing to come back and bringing only half of what I need, still I find I have an abundance – even too much.

And if I don’t know where my home is, anymore and really, home is where the heart is, then I live in Montreal, Aylmer, London, Victoria, Annis Bay and Calgary.

Lucky me – a six-home woman.

Arta