Tectonic Plates

Navigating my way home through the shifting landscape of people, place and purpose

I have been pondering what it means to call a place home and have come to think of it as the intersection between people, place and purpose. A friend drew it for me, a Venn diagram where home is that sweet spot of overlap between the circles. For me, the circles are never static, they are more like tectonic plates constantly shifting beneath the surface of our ever-changing lives, and finding the overlap can feel elusive. But when these elements do align, even briefly, we can experience a profound sense of home…it’s beautiful, it’s powerful, it’s contentment.

This past weekend, I felt this alignment, almost by accident. Perhaps it was because I didn't plan for it that it just seemed to happen. The way I spent time with each of my loved ones in our local, wild places filled me with purpose and brought me to a place of deep inner 'home-ness.' 

“Elliot-Time”

My little guy and I hiked to a 1500-year old Juniper tree, and along the way, he took time to examine each bug, plant and flower and to wet his feet in the streams. Through his meandering pace and curiosity, he taught me to embrace what I have come to call “Elliot-time,” a time where how long it takes to reach our destination and the intensity of pace are irrelevant. Following his lead, and with a deep breath, I let myself let go of expectations and live in his time, embracing our wilderness.

A Jingling Bell

On a mountain bike ride up a magical canyon, my oldest and I talked about all the things as we climbed up the snaking trail. For a kiddo who has inherited my deep need to please others and do what’s expected, it was a gift to share the carefreeness with which he approached the ride and watch his confidence on the bike. It made me forget my own downhill fears as I followed the jingle of his little bell and listened to his excited “woohoo’s” as he banked around turns and navigated rocks.

I even kept up…mostly ;)

Pedaling Together

Sharing thousands of pedal strokes, my love and I had some one-on-one time over 5-hours of a long ride through the mountains thanks to the generosity of a friend who watched our boys so we could ride together. In the bustle of kids, pups, housework, schedules, and commitments, it’s easy to lose sight of the fact that what we each value most is spending time together. To put the other things aside, accept help, and invest in each other gave me real purpose.

Hammocks

And I snuggled with our wild pup who will cuddle up in the most unlikely of places, reminding me that he’s up for anything, as long as he gets to be part of it. 

This weekend was one where I noticed that you don’t have to go far or try too hard to find what you love most. Sometimes “home” just happens, and you get to bask in its fleeting glory. 

In the midst of feeling settled and resting some tired legs, I read this poignant quote from one of our great American writers. In his book, Crossing to Safety, Wallace Stegner writes,

There, one September morning, it hit me that things were all together other than what they had been for a long time. Wherever it was that we were going, we had arrived, or at least come into the clear road.

This weekend, I wasn’t searching for “there.”

I wasn’t overthinking “home.”

I wasn’t planning the future.

I was very much living here, and in doing so, I had arrived home. At my point of intersecting plates in this place where I live with my people (and pup), I had a clear purpose. 

Now, to capture this and live it more often…