my place in the sun.

Good Morning August.

Happy Birthday Mom.

It is hard to believe that the last of the summer months has come. It feels like only days ago that I arrived in Stroudsburg in my Honda – the trunk and backseat brimming with whatever I could get to fit. Hauling my laundry baskets and boxes up into the corner bedroom of Turning Point made me reminisce about moving into a dorm. My first night was lonely. I took to the back porch to admire the view, and ended up plowing through the new David Sedaris book in short time.

But now, just weeks later, I feel at home in this strange place. For the first time in a long time I’ve taken time to be by myself. Though I’ve made friends here, I still spend most of my evenings reading, writing, dancing, cooking or – when I’m feeling just so – watching a movie. In a way, my time here has been like a private retreat. I’ve made progress on my personal journey to wherever it is I’m heading. Happiness? Success? Death? Nobody really knows. But we’ve all got our eyes on the horizon in preparation for what’s next.

I’ve learned that I am the type of person who gets attached to the experiences I encounter. I think back to the days of summer camp, when my ride home was full of tears and throat clenching pains. I suppose not much has changed, because I’ve never met an experience I didn’t like. Well… OK … I guess I would have been happy missing out on that awful haircut. But when it comes to the places I go, and the people I meet, I’m hooked. I feel as though I could fit in just about anywhere – which really, ultimately, makes me feel like I may never find that one place where things are perfect enough to stop.