Another moving day...

After several enjoyable weeks of taking up residence in Daughter Middle's basement, being a day-in and day-out part of the family, and taking full advantage of having Grandkids (6) near at hand for games, music, and general mayhem, the day arrived that the lease ran out for the traveling nurse who was renting while we were on First Light. It was the day for moving back into our over–the–garage “granny flat”. 

The Landside Cockpit

I love living on the boat. I like the the travel and (most of the time) challenges that come with that lifestyle. I love seeing new places and anchoring out far from civilization's lights and noise. But as I stepped through the apartment door with my arms full of stuff only one thought filled my mind...”HOME”.

The leaves are starting to turn, the temperatures are near perfect, and a gentle breeze wafts through the two rooms of our land side home. We will do uncounted loads of laundry, try to remember exactly where things went or find better places for them to rest. There is a new djembe drum that needs to find its place. The Ukes have been freed from their boat side gig bags and rest in their brackets on the walls once again. Two of them, the U-Base and the Guitalele, went away the day after the move as they were not missed while we were on the boat. The U-Base just isn't my thing. The Guitalele, with its six strings, is two more strings than my mangled left hand can handle. That would have left two empty spaces on the wall. But we stopped at a new-to-us music store on the way home and, wouldn't you know, they had the perfect Baritone Ukelele just begging to be restrung as a low "g".  Along with the guitar Grandson Eldest left behind when he bought a new one, there are no empty spaces on the wall. So all is well in my musical world.

I find myself wondering about my attachment to two completely different “homes”. I am utterly content on the boat, not really wanting to be anywhere else when I am there (but still missing family). I am utterly content with my land side apartment (but still missing the water environment). Maybe it isn't an issue of having multiple homes? This earth is my home, our home. This span of history is my home, our home. And though I have to admit to being a bit baffled, if not out right appalled and confused over what a lot of people do, the human race is my family. Many of whom are, admittedly, like a wack-job, drug-addled relation that you would just as soon never hear from again. When the news arrives about their latest disaster or conflict one can only shrug and hope they don't think they have been invited to dinner. 

No matter how you feel about here and now and the people who are in it, we are all in this thing together. So getting too bent out of shape about some of the (admittedly horrible) things going on doesn't do anyone any good. Indeed, it might be ramping up the ugly just that little bit more. As much as we might wish differently, there is absolutely nothing most of us can do about any of it, and nothing we can do to avoid it. As the stoic Marcus Aurelius suggests in Book Six of Meditations, “Meditate often on the interconnectedness and mutual interdependence of all things in the universe.” A thought echoed by another stoic teacher Seneca, when he wrote, “All that you behold is one—we are the parts of one great body.” It would be nice if a larger part of the human family incorporate that idea into whatever religion, philosophy, nation, race, or tribe to which they happen to pledge their allegiance.

What I see is what I get. Dealing with it is the only option. No matter where I am I will try to enjoy it as much as I can for as long as I can, all while trying not to make things any worse for those who are sharing this space and time with me. If I can can I'll even try to make things for them a little better. 

As for today? We are home. And it feels pretty good.