Sitting here tonight in the living room, I feel pretty fortunate to have several places that I consider "retreats," my favorite places, most comfortable spaces. I have such a fondness for where I was raised and where I'm living now and everywhere in between. I feel sometimes like I have the ability to connect deeply to my environment and coexist with it, experiencing it all but not always being able to describe it or write it all down. (That is in part what this 8 Minute Memoir adventure is about, getting back into the routing of "writing it all down" so to speak. So far it's doing the trick!)
The building is 100 years old and the floors are kind of uneven... there's no laundry, no dishwasher... but it is comfortable, it is my place to land, it is home in every sense of the word. Home is really just a state of mind more than anything else, anyway. Still I feel beyond lucky to wake up in this city every day, lucky enough to enjoy this space: a retreat, our corner of the world.