whew!

A beautiful whirlwind of events have lead to potential home ownership. I feel so calm through this whole process. Wait, that is inaccurate. The very first morning after we discussed making an offer, a two minute wave of nervousness hit me when I woke up. Then it passed and this amazing feeling of clarity took hold and has not let go. Things are falling into place.

Groovy and I have been house hunting and researching for close to a year now, going to open houses, online searching home buying info, gathering experiences of friends who have been through the process or are in the real estate business, and looking at areas we can afford that are less likely to have gang gunfire. We considered getting a foreclosure and a 203k loan. We considered small bungalows. We created a list of things we must have, things that would be nice and the "definitely nots" that helped eliminate a bunch of homes we saw. We have taken knowledge passed on to us by our parents over the years to help us make a good choice.

Then we went to the most recent few open houses. We opened our possibilities to an area that we hadn't considered before and were pleasantly surprised. A two bedroom raised ranch. From first in-person glance, something was different about this house compared to all the others we saw. The yard was close to perfect. Just add a fence for the dog and it is ideal. The house is a great size, not too opulent and not too "cozy" (real estate lingo for "small"). Quiet neighborhood where people maintain their properties and no through traffic zooming on by. Everything in good repair and many updates on the house, inside and out. And a price that is within our means.

This house was lovingly taken care of for the past eight years by this nice old man who sadly lost his wife and will be residing with family henceforth. This obviously was truly a home for them. He tended to a sweet little vegetable garden. I can imagine him and his wife sipping tea in the kitchen, enjoying the sun on the patio and sitting in quiet bliss in the living room. I believe we will love this house as much as they must have.

So now we are up to the inspection part of the process. We hired an engineer to check out the home this Saturday and I cannot wait to show this house to my family. I am hoping everything goes well for we might be in our own home before we know it (and can maybe move when it is not snowy out...which is an unfortunate habit we have).

Breathing deep and slow.
Namaste'

settle down, you nomad

Many of you know that, for a major portion of my life thus far, I have resided on Long Island (or The Island of Long, as I like to refer to it). This has not been a continuous thing. I spent many years moving around to various apartments in Colorado and Rhode Island. Having landed back on the shores of my birth (two more apartments worth) thoughts of finally living in a place where I can paint the ceiling fuchsia on a whim if the feeling grabs me have filled my mind. House hunting (sounds so barbaric) is in the forefront of my mind.

Being of limited funds (I'm not working as a therapist for the riches) causes limited options. After a few weeks of looking in affordable, non-gang infiltrated areas, I posed a question to myself: If money was not a factor, where on Long Island would I live? Well, frankly, I stumped myself. There are many places I wouldn't mind living, but what town would I WANT to live... none of them. Please don't misunderstand, there are some really lovely places, towns, attractions, and activities on the Island that are wonderful. Additionally, I love being close to my family and friends. It is just that this query made me realize that I do not particularly want to be living here.

The traffic, rudeness, overabundance of inhabitants and the lack of quiet spots to just be with my thoughts all make me question being back here for the long run. Public transportation is not well designed and is pricey, bike paths are often dangerous to travel on and it is difficult to live here without a personal fuel utilizing vehicle. Let us not even talk about the exuberant cost of living. Despite all this negative, the idea of having a place to call home that is truly home makes me salivate. Thankfully, we are not on any sort of deadline to move. There is ample time to figure it all out.

I posed this question to friends who are or were from the Island, most of them focused on the negatives of living here, but I am still curious to keep asking others the question, so please comment and share your thoughts:

What town on Long Island would you want to live in and why? (If you do not know the Island personally, go by what you know about it.)

Where off the island (other places in NY, states, or countries) would you want to live and why?

a house as home

The next step in this journey of life may involve home ownership. We have been keeping our eyes open at the market in the area, watching trends and oo-ing and ah-ing at pictures of available abodes and thinking "hmm what we would do with this yard or that kitchen." I am ready to finish my life as a renter, I am ready to once again live above ground, I am ready for the yard for the dog to run around in and I am ready for a place to call home.

om in the home

Two nights in a row, I have succeeded at getting full, mostly restful nights sleep. I think it has helped having completed some deep cleaning in the bedroom; dusting, changing pillow cases, vacuuming and organizing. It amazes me how much more at ease I am when things are neat and organized. Not like this is some shocking revelation since I am fully aware how our surroundings affect us. It is more that I am amazed at the stark difference I feel between chaos and calm. This alone should be motivation enough to keep things clean and tidy, but I'm an artist at heart and like many artists I know, order is not an easy thing to keep.

On a positive, as I grow more aware of how I walk through life, I also become less attached to things. I find it much easier now to part with things than I have in the past. My goal now is to simplify. Yes, it is nice to have possessions, but I want to be realistic. I no longer want to hold on to stuff for the sake of having stuff. I want less things in order to be able to actively use the things I need and want to use, without extraneous things hindering this.

I want to keep my cleaning of the apartment as simple as: keep, toss, donate

I want to be realistic in the "oh, I use this such-and-such someday" and get rid of the "Yeah, I might use it eventually but right now it is useless and taking up too much space" things.

Cleanse and purge the physical in order to calm the internal.

What I want is "om in the home".

Who's with me?

small home

Simplification to the umpteenth degree. How cool!

organizing

I was inspired the other day by Nina's blog to make a one item "to-do list" so I decided to make "finally get the kitchen organized for the first time since moving in to this apartment" my task. I did it. Moved the furniture around to a more functional placement (difficult to do when you have a tiny kitchen), cleaned above the cabinets, decorated a box to hide some "not for daily use" items, cleaned under the refrigerator, emptied and organized the cabinets and I was inspired the other day by Nina's blog to make a one item "to-do list" so I decided to make "finally get the kitchen organized for the first time since moving in to this apartment" my task. I did it. Moved the furniture around to a more functional placement (difficult to do when you have a tiny kitchen), cleaned above the cabinets, decorated a box to hide some "not for daily use" items, cleaned under the refrigerator, emptied and organized the cabinets and reinforced the island that was really wobbling from the move. Whew! Quite n job, but it is done and I feel much better about it. Next tasks: finish sorting through the boxes of papers and random stuff while making an organizational system for the keep stuff.

organizing
Originally uploaded by misslissa13

Also, organize the incredible desk hutch that Greg's father built for us. Since our desk only has a keyboard drawer and small hutch, we desperately needed office storage space. Now we have it.

I will take a full view picture when I have it all organized and pretty-like. Of course, a Buddha was the first thing to adorn this lovely hand-made piece.
The apartment is starting to feel more like home.

a little funk

After an awful night's sleep last night and not feeling so good in the belly, I feel a bit in a funk today. We went for a long stroll and that certainly helped a bit, but I am still feeling all up in my head in dark thoughts while my body concurrently feels blah. Walking, I viewed the houses in the neighborhood, admiring or critiquing the architecture and design, some charming, some in need of serious tender loving care, some stunningly lovely....and it all made me pensive. I wonder if the owners appreciate what they have, big or small, the Joneses or the little bungalow owners. I wonder if they see their abodes as a burden, or they take them for granted....if they huff at the mortgage payments.....or if they realize that they have a place that is uniquely theirs...they own them. Perhaps it is the amount of times I have moved in the recent past, or living in places that are not fully "home", where, even though there is less responsibility, there is less ability to design things as I would like. Maybe it the realization that landlords really skimp on the construction by using bottom of the line items and sub par labor....I really cannot wait to have a home of my own. Does this make me all grown up-like? This is one of those areas in my hearth that feels kind of empty. My new mantra is "patience pays" and I continuously have to remind myself to be patient in this realm (as well as others). It is such a difficult task for me and my "instant gratification takes too long" sense of urgency. I need to accept what is while still working towards the things I want. I need to work hard while letting go of outcomes. I need to embrace the fact that there are things I can control and things that are beyond it. Perhaps a better night sleep will make this much, much easier. Goodnight, all.

a room with a view inside

I keep having dreams about studio apartments. Three of them in the past four nights. The dreams appear in real life color and there is ample space in each of them.

Out of all of the abodes I have resided in, only one was a studio apartment. It was very small but wonderful with a huge closet and a retro kitchen on one wall. Located in the historic district of Boulder, Colorado, it consisted of one room on the top floor of an old house. My window faced the backyard and alley. Not a city alley, but a dirt road that runs behind some residential houses where driveways, garages and garbage cans are. I had one particular squirrel who would climb on my screen everyday in hopes of some handouts. Since I am a pushover for cute furry vagrants, he ate well. I shared a bathroom with a 20-something triathlete who wasn't around much. Downstairs in the two larger units were Carrie Jo, a Canadian performing arts major, and Miss Sis (Betsy), a world-wise massage therapist with many stories to tell. Most evenings, Carrie Jo, Miss Sis and I would spend our evenings sipping wine, laughing and telling tales of life and (occasionally) debauchery. Those were wonderful times spent with some wonderful women!

I had moved into this home when my relationship with A ended. I was struggling with change and, being in Naropa's graduate program for Transpersonal Counseling Psychology, was already peeling open the layers of my psyche in my processing classes. I was raw and vulnerable and trying to figure out what exactly the meaning home was. My room at my parents' house now contained some of my grandmother's furniture. I no longer resided with A and our dog. I was living 2000 miles from New York and only had my friends from school around me. It was difficult but in the process of finding this place, signing the month-to-month lease and experiencing living there, I came to the conclusion that, for me, home is within me and yet it is so much more. It is a feeling of comfort that I can hold myself in. It is having a loving family and circle of friends that are always there even when you do not get to speak that often. It is in a space that just feels right; a corner of the world that is uniquely mine. It is also what I can share with Greg, with my family, with friends and even with the occasional acquaintance through a simple smile or kind word. I have taken that feeling with me and hold it close to my heart always.

As I have been mentioning, changes are inevitable and currently looming large. Tied in to these dreams of apartments is our meditating on what to do now that our lease is coming to an end. I just know that if we move to another apartment, home will come with us. Of course, I'm hoping home will also be larger than a studio apartment physically. And I know, without a doubt, it will continue to grow larger in my heart. Home, sweet home.

home

.....and Lafayette and Boulder and Denver and East Providence and....... I moved seven times in less then a four year period, living in four towns and three states. Considering I had only lived in two places only seven miles apart for my first twenty-something years of my life, the past few years have made me examine the idea of what home means to me.

Here's the background history for those of you that do not know it. I was born a poor, black boy....no wait. I'm not that jerk.... I was born and raised on Long Island. When I moved out of my folks' house, I lived on the south shore about seven miles from my home town. In my late twenties, I planned to go back to school for my Master's degree. Of course what I wanted to study, Transpersonal Counseling Psychology, is only offered through five schools. I choose Naropa University in the lovely town of Boulder, Colorado. Having never been to the Rocky Mountain State, I found a room to sublease online from a crazy lady in Lafayette (move 1), a few miles east of Boulder. The vehicle I co-owned stayed in NY until that co-owner would move out a year later, so I bussed around (they have a great system out there). After a while I decided to head into Boulder to be closer to school and farther from "crazy". I got a great one bedroom a mile from campus (move 2). Less than a year later, co-owner was moving to be with me. We had a dog, so before they arrived, I moved to a dog friendly on the same street (move 3). After living a while with co-owner and fuzz-puppy, the relationship self destructed..with co-owner, not the dog. (I should say, one of the times it self destructed.) I then found a great little studio apartment in the historic district of Boulder (move 4). Us tenants were on a month to month lease because the owners were trying to sell it. The house was on the market for over a year, so I figured we were safe for a while. How wrong I was! They sold and the new owner was converting the place back to a one family. Forced to move, a new friend (who also is a born-and-breed LIer, even though I met him after moving to CO) had mentioned that his roommate had moved out and that I was welcome to move in with him in south Denver. By this time, I had purchased my new car, so after many trips back and forth to get my stuff there, I became a Denver resident (move 5). As our lease was running out, roommate-guy got engaged to his sweet girlfriend, so I moved out and she moved in. Since, I hadn't planned on staying in CO for another year, I moved in with my old friend/new love in downtown Denver (move 6) until his lease ran out. He had moved to Denver and ended up hating it (especially because of the young-uns who made living in our building an unpleasant, noisy experience), so he had no problem moving back east with me. We threw a dart at the globe and picked the Providence area; close enough to family and friends on LI, but a new experience (move 7).

As you might imagine, being nomadic, especially 1900+ miles from what had always been home, can make a person feel uprooted and unsettled. When I first landed in Colorado, with nothing more than three suitcases and not knowing a soul in the state, not to mention being submerged in the rigors of my studies, I was in a whirlwind of reexamining who I was. Normally a social person who used to club like mad and spend time with friends and family constantly, I became extremely introverted and more introspective. Moving around so often, having a relationship that started and stopped as many times as I moved, and dealing with all the processing classes at school triggered a feeling of un-groundedness. I felt like I could not feel the ground and I was floating off the planet at rapid speed. The pit in my stomach, lump in my throat and knots in my calf muscles were difficult to experience in my gestalt therapy, authentic movement and tai chi classes. I wanted to scream or cry or run, or any combination of the three. Even what had always been home had lost some of that feeling. Those of you who know me in life are aware of the strong connection I have to my loving family, but since "my room" at my parents house became the new home for some of my grandmother's furniture, it did not feel like "mine" anymore.

I needed to retool my definition and feeling of "home". This work began when I moved to the studio in historic Boulder. While dealing with a major breakup and checking out multiple apartments, I was pondering the idea that home is within me. Having this feeling in my heart, when I walked into the studio it just felt right. Turns out this home was very healing for me. Sure the space was small and I had to share a bathroom in the hallway with the apartment across the hall, but the other three tenants were a diverse group of wonderfully strong women. We would spend our evenings drinking wine and talking about life and laughing as the sun set over the Foothills. It was healing to say the least. What also helped shape my definition of home was my mother coming out to visit. She is my hero and the most understanding, strong woman I have ever known. We spent time hiking, talking, crying and laughing. My family is always home. When I finally started dating and moved in with Greg, a new definition of home developed. Actually, my definition grew. It doesn't matter what four walls shelter us, we are home just being part of each others' lives.

My feeling of home continues to grow and change. Someday I hope to add a physical house to this definition, as well as adding a child to the idea of home and family. Home, to me, is in my heart, with my loved ones and felt in a simple hug. Home, sweet home.