There's no place like home

Is any place like home anymore?  I am longing for my home.  I am still in the US and awaiting the outcome of the procedures my father is having this afternoon.  Each night when I open up the convertible couch in my brother's house and settle in with a mind-numbing book or the TV, I feel almost childlike in the sense of aloneness or lost feeling I have.  It's not an unfamiliar feeling.  I think I felt this way a lot as a young teenager.  It's the feeling of doing sort of normal things in the wrong place, showering, putting on pajamas(!), going to bed, waking up, doing laundry.  It all feels like I am living in a limbo-land waiting for some event to connect up all these strange dots.

I wonder if this feeling will ever go away?

Are we yearning for something that doesn't really exist.  Do we all, like I do, build safe havens or nests, to retreat to in times of uncertainty? Am I really an overweight, aged version of Dorothy meandering down the yellow-brick road looking for someplace outside of myself to fulfill a need that is only inside? BTW, this image of a gingham-dressed Cynthia, with plaited hair knee socks and freckles, skipping down a winding path accompanied by a small dog and a gang of munchkins, actually makes me almost laugh out loud. Maybe I'll bear this one in mind for my next invite to a fancy dress party!

Seriously, why do I keep searching externally?  I was glancing through a book by Krishna Das called 'Chants of a Lifetime' (recommended) and reading about his journey to a greater sense of self-knowledge and self-acceptance and so much resonated within me.  I recognise my own search and my own laziness in that search.  I am often willing to look at the inner me, but not always willing to become what it takes to make changes. I also can see that change is not really necessary.  Bit of a Catch-22.

Watching my father lying in his hospital bed, I see an old man pretty unphased by his new uncomfortable surroundings.  Its not just his dementia that makes him oblivious to where he is, it's also this very deep accepting of whatever is needed to happen will happen.  No point in pushing the river or fighting the flow.  Things happen in the way they do and the point for my dad is to just relax and go with it and trust the process.  My dad is a great lesson is remaining steady in the face of everything that comes his way. Even when his words don't make too much sense he is sweet and easy to please. In his own way my dad has a lot of answers for me.  If I really examine his way of being it is quite a profound lesson. He doesn't just roll over and take life as it comes including the unpleasantness, but when something cannot be changed, he accepts that and takes and uses his power to make the changes he can.  He's always been that way.

This afternoon he will be sedated, undergo procedures to stop his bleeding and examined for further problems.  I hope that he wakes up and when I ask him how he is, he answers in the exact way he always does "I'm alright".

Then maybe I can breathe and  go home again.