Coming Home, Going Home, Finding Home

These last two months have been some of the hardest months in a long time. A time of questioning so many things about my community, about systems, about justice and about the goodness of people. Watching someone I love hurt so deeply, and getting swept up in that hurt in ways that are both mine and not mine. The home that I have created here has been turned upside down and in the midst of that so many more questions about home fill my mind. Who am I? What matters to me? How do I trust and listen to my instinct that knows so much more than my anxious, running mind could ever think to know? How do I find a home within myself, hold on to my voice in an experience that has silenced me and pushed me out? How do I trust that I will find my space again, I will continue to recreate my communities, my home, myself- in the midst of felling like I am stuck in the muddiness of this situation?

Meanwhile my mom's house sold in a matter of minutes and suddenly what we had been talking about for years was happening in the blink of an eye. We flew home to pack, to go through things, to be with her and to spend one last weekend together in the house that has held SO much over the past 40 years that she and we have lived in it. There has been loss, there has been hurt, there has been so much love and togetherness and community in the space. We have fought and come together, we have cried and laughed so very hard. It is the single physical space that has held the very most of my life and in that space we were formed into who we are today- through ups and downs we could have never expected. I was worried the last weekend there might be tense, overly emotional or complex, but it was so very sweet.  With Cooper running around making us laugh, boxes of old clothes and pictures being sorted through and some surprise tears, we felt so united, saying goodbye to a place we love, and excited that we are stepping forward with our mom into a new chapter- that she deserves more than anyone I know. I got a break from all this yuckiness there, was held by my family, and reminded of my roots and the people who love and know me so well. There were lots of tears as we drove away for the last time, and have been many conversations about the intensely emotional memories that were made there, and how we will carry them with us. Spaces are sacred, but memories, identities, family and a sense of home transcend those spaces and go with us wherever we are.

On Saturday I am getting on a plane to El Salvador for a week. And I could not be more excited. Things are really hard there right now. They are always hard but the violence has increased and I have had a few hard conversations with worried loved ones about my safety. First of all I will be safe and second of all I need to go. I will be safe because I will be surrounded by people that are family, that care about my safety so very much and know the situation better than any news story or worried university group can possibly know. I need to go because it is home, because in that space, surrounded by el pueblo that I love so dearly, I am the deepest, truest, best version of myself. I know what matters when I am there, I can see past all of the mudiness, the drama, the brokenness and remember why I am in this world and feel the humanity and love of people like no where else. It is my spiritual home, the place that I became Michelle and that altered the direction of my path to lead me here. To a place that is really hard and confusing right now, but that I am in for a reason. And will come out of strong and connected to myself and those who are most important in my life. I have been so excited dreaming of being there. Excited to see the families I love so dearly, get some space from here, reengage in that reality and let some of this go. I keep seeing myself on the beach in tears... feeling the pain of all this but finding hope and faith that I have felt distant from lately. Yet in the midst of my excitement and joy I know that it is going to be so hard. There are incredible amounts of pain there right now and they cannot stop me from going but rather make me want to be there even more. To do what started this all, be with people I love, hear their stories and sit with them in their pain caused by a world that is not ok.

There is a lot of fear in this world right now. Fear that is making us shut people out. Forget about people's dignity and humanity and close in to ourselves and our comfort. I'm pretty sure that's not what we are here for. And that it actually causes a lot more suffering and a lot less healing and liberation. So in this time where things are muddy and confusing I am holding onto the people and places that remind me who I am, that help me find a home in myself, and that are bringing true hope and healing into the world. My heart is broken, this world is broken, but running away from all of that rather than searching deep within it for love and life and resilience is not what we are called to do.