365 Days Of Love. Day 132

I laid the ground works for a new home in my old home intermixed with facets of my most recent home.

Translation?

I moved to Pine Ridge. The westerly drive on I-90 is inherently freeing. The open space and mountains beckon independence from my innermost parts, taunt me with promises of challenges and triumphs. When I walked into my new home, though, I was overwhelmed with the dust, unexplained dampness of the carpets, broken out windows, and the dingy smell. I didn’t question what I was doing here or why I came here, I didn’t freak out (although I did spend near 40 dollars on febreeze). Instead, I cleaned. I reminded myself that I chose my new home. And that choice, is a privilege as is the ease I can escape to my parents’ house or jet to my family’s house less than two hours away. The dinginess of my new home, echoed by the extreme closeness of my old home served as a reminder that this has always been my home. South Dakota, all of South Dakota, is my home.

When I chose to move to Pine Ridge, accepting it as it is, hoping to disover it’s innate beauty, I chose to explore more of my home.

As I was unpacking today, I came across a few things my mentor in Texas left me when we said our goodbyes. I adorned my kitchen with her notecards, pictures, and stories. They serve as reminders of my most recent home on the border of Texas and Mexico. The home that taught me the value of a story and the true beauty of humanity, the home that encouraged me to write, to find my voice, to use my words. The home that made me vehemently passionate about the empowerment of people and communities.

This is my new home. It isn’t ideal…yet. My amazing parents are collaborating with me to make it eclectic and eccentric, to make it…me. This home holds promise, though. It is old, it is new, it is recent and I’m confident that is a potent combination.

A loving

A mysterious

A combination