I am me, and I know that. I am not able to be defined by words. Words that humans need to understand. I don’t care for their understanding. I prefer it that way. Perhaps that’s why I adore Chopin, because we are of the same concerning our identity.
I could feel home anywhere. It makes me more and more me. But it also means that there shall not be a real place I feel home to. Or somewhere, someone I could belong to. Unless there’s someone in this world just like me. Created just for me. Or the other way around.
The ability to feel home everywhere, really means that we are home to nowhere. We have adapted ourselves like the wind. But fire does not adapt. Fire is the one thing in life that does not adapt. It is the beginning and the end of life.
I have come whole circle in the physical journey I mentioned at the beginning of this year. Appreciating every person and experience this year – good and worst – for the result that I am feeling.
Mind, heart, and soul. United in this body I call home.