This place can be home, too.
I haven’t taken a nap since I left home nearly a month ago. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so awfully exhausted since leaving. Naps are hard to take when you’re not comfortable. We have a couch in the apartment, and of course, I have a bed, but it’s not the same. It’s not home.
My nap today, though, was wonderful. I dreamed about walking and taking photos, and about people that I care about. Drifting in and out of dreams is fun. I had been reading the introduction to Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces, the section about dreams and myth. Maybe that had something to do with it.
For a split second upon waking, I thought it was a Sunday afternoon in the suburbs of Austin, and that I would turn over and see my dog laying on the ground next to my bed, that I’d get up, walk into the backyard to let her out and for me to get some fresh air and Texas sun. I thought I was home.
But I turned over, nearly fell off the couch and remembered that I was in New York City and that this place can be home, too.