my home

as has been my ritual, this morning i woke up early to read, write and breathe before beginning my day. these have been my most precious moments the last month or so, and there is little that will tempt me to sacrifice these still and beautiful minutes of quiet and solitude.

this morning when i was writing, i had a deep longing for a home. not just a home, but a physical place to live. i dreamed a bit about what i wanted and how it would look, and while i was dreaming, i realized that i have an amazing home here. i truly adore my flat. not only is it in a beautiful old building, it has a spectacular view, there is always live music flooding the courtyard from the teahouse below, and i'm starting to be friendly with my neighbors. since returning, i've truly cared for my flat like it is my child... i'm constantly cleaning and caring for it, developing a routine and finding just the right place for everything. i've painted paintings for the walls, planted flowers for the windows, and created a reading corner surrounded by things that i love. i'm not exaggerating when i say that everyday i'm thankful for this space that i live in. it is the first place that i've had that truly feels like it's mine.

none of this would really be worth mentioning, had i not received unhappy news today. after my lessons at school, nelli asked me to come to her office because she had something serious she needed to talk to me about. when i got into her office, she made me sit down and my first thought was "who died?". then she told me that igor, my landlord, had come into school today and had told nelli that there are "big family problems" and that i need to move out of my flat so someone else can move in. and i need to move out as soon as possible.

i'm not really worried about where i will go. i have options-- and even if i have to live someplace less-than-ideal, i will only be there for about 3 months. the point is, i feel like my home is being taken away from me and there is nothing i can do about it. of course that sounds dramatic, but take into account that i might possibly be the most sentimental person you can meet. it really feels painful to be forced out of this flat.

but as much as i've wanted to cry and complain today, i can't help but think that it'll be ok. maybe that's obvious and granted for most people... but for me, my first thought is always the worst one, and it takes weeks for me to re-acclamate and realize that everything will be ok. fortunately today i was able to trade the weeks of trauma for ten minutes of shock, and an afternoon of mild sadness and sentimentality.

in honor of my first, independent home: