Once again, I have been negligent in posting my blogs. In my defence I have been busy over the past week. I have moved into a new home. Moving is a bit like cooking a steak. You have to get the timing just right. And, for the most part, I did. Everything coordinated as it was meant to, and I am moved into my new place. I’m living in an apartment, something I haven’t done for years. But unlike the last time I was in an apartment, I’m not willing to put up with cockroaches. And the TV is on a proper cabinet, not perched on a case of empty beer bottles.
Before I left someone gave me some advice. They said that when I move, I must never bring a broom from my old place into my new place, lest it bring bad luck. I looked it up. She was right! If you bring a broom from an old home into a new home, you risk bringing with you all of the bad energy of your past. I’m not especially superstitious, but given how tumultuous the past three years have been, I decided not to tempt fate. The broom stayed at my old place.
Moving is also all about getting used to a new space. After the excitement of moving in, I found myself wandering from room to room, looking in cupboards and peering around corners. I felt like I was looking for something, but I didn’t know what. After a while I realized that what I was looking for was myself. I wanted to know how I fit into this new space. It was as if I was hoping that some form of me would appear out of a cupboard, or from a corner and say “welcome, you are home.” I’m not sure how long it will take for this new space to become a part of me. I think it will happen in its own time and in its own way. One day I will walk through the door and know that I am home. I will feel it. In the meantime, I will wander and explore and keep looking for the essence of home that I know is here. Maya Angelou once said, “the ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”
Today something almost magical happened that made my space feel a little more like home. I went to pick up what I thought was a piece of fluff off the ground. And it moved. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a very small lizard or gecko. I didn’t scream, but lets just say that I didn’t not scream.
What was a creature like that doing in my brand new apartment?!
On Sunday I had purchased a Money Tree from Bradford Greenhouses. I wanted to bring some life into my new apartment. A Money Tree is a tropical plant, grown in distant countries. My best guess is the gecko travelled from its homeland to my home on the leaves of the plant. And now he was in my space. I picked him up and he crawled into the palm of my hand and was very still, as if wanting me to provide him with answers as to where he was. Although not much longer than my pinky finger, I could see his heart beating and his lungs expanding. He was lost and he was worried.
Long story short, two hours and a $160 later, the gecko is now my pet living in an aquarium on the table beside my couch. I named him Zeus. Like me, he (or she!) is someone who has found himself in a new space. He never anticipated it. He never planned for it. But here he is. He is a mixture of curious but overwhelmed, safe but still insecure. I think we were meant to find each other. So here we will live together, two creatures brought together by circumstance, still trying to find their sense of home, but knowing that they are not alone.