Image by victor_nuno via Flickr
I walked in the door. I said, “I’m home, Cheech (Chi-chi’s one of our dogs).” A rush of emotion swept through me. “Thank God, I’m home.”
I’ve struggled with my house being my home since I moved here. It was Jen’s house before we met. There’s a lot of history in the house. There’s a lot of ego involve in my fighting making this house my home. I create meaning that doesn’t have to be there that keeps me away.
A friend was telling me about the Samurai. They are not allowed to destroy and kill before learning how to create beauty and bring life. Knowing how to create fosters an appreciation for the power of destruction. My friend was speaking of balance. A pendulum works by swinging equidistantly from the center of it’s arc. The more it swings one direction. The more capable it is of swinging the other.
There’s something odd about the twins. They divide. They conquer. They bring together.
Jen and I fight more than ever. And we come back together to heal more quickly than ever. We’re tired. We’re weary. We’re determined. We’re committed. The twins are bringing out the worst and the best in us.
It felt like I returned this morning from a 2 month journey. I was away for 20 minutes.
I drove back to my house. The pendulum swung. I entered my home. Thank God, I’m home.
