To be in my place

Yesterday was cloudy and somber. The day was spent doing weekend stuff; cleaning, organizing, getting a new cell phone (that was a fun waste of time), and general maintenance of life. Around 5:30 I decided to go out for a walk. I went longer than I intended and ended up getting rained on. By the time I got back home it was dark out, I was soaked through and freezing cold. I stripped down and put on my P.J.'s in an attempt to get warm again.

I wasn't hungry for dinner, but was craving a snack. I opened my fridge and dug around until I could find something that appealed to my belly. I piled a plate with some baby carrots and cut up an apple. I filled a glass with water and decided to sit in my living room to listen to the rain pelt the windows. I turned on some music, kicked my feet up and sunk in to myself.
The chomping sound of carrots and the apple appealed to my little kitten (she loves corn chips, so anything crunchy sounding brings out a Pavlov response), and she was soon sticking her head into my plate.

As I was sitting, quietly in my thoughts, petting my kitten, listening to a guitar in the background mixing with the sound of rain, I smiled to myself and for the first time I thought, "I am home." I looked around the room and had a feeling of contentment that I had never felt before. The colors, the artwork, the rug on the floor, the pictures of places I have been, the lamp sitting behind the rocking chair, the pottery I have accumulated over time, each piece with its own story. Within all this, I see me. For the first time (and I have had 8 residences) my true spirit is reflected in this house.
I finished my carrots and my apple, grabbed a blanket, and laid back. I have waited for this feeling my whole life. I began to close my eyes, breathing quietly. In my place, my home, my heart.