Homecoming

May 14, 2024

Wednesday evening we returned from a road trip visiting our son and daughter-in-love in Cleveland and then a few days roaming in Michigan. A good trip, for sure, but oh, how wonderful to open the front door of our home and proclaim to the House Gods, “We’re back.” That was at 6:00 pm and by 7:00 we had unpacked, bags put away and washing machine chugging with our dirty laundry.

We are good returnees. You see, for us being home is even better than returning home.

My husband and I are homebodies. No doubt about it.

My husband hometends–or should I say garden tends–and he has been communing in the garden most daylight hours since our return. He also hometends for others when he paints discarded furniture, giving each piece a new and even more creative life. In June he will have his annual garage sale, the fruits of his winter labors, and all proceeds go to support Lutheran Social Services programs for youth experiencing homelessness.

I’m the interior hometender —hometending as a kind of spiritual practice, which I have written about before in this blog. How glad I am that before we left on this recent road trip I pushed myself to leave the house “return ready.” I’m not quite the perfectionist, however, as a friend who vacuums herself out the backdoor into the garage when she leaves on a trip, but I do like knowing that a clean and welcoming home waits for me when I cross the threshold. Besides, there is always enough to do upon returning without needing to clean the bathroom.

I have also realized over the years that my work as a spiritual director is a kind of hometending, too. I help others know the home within; the home always available. That’s a subject for another post.

Being away from home opens space for new thoughts and clarifying realizations, which sometimes crystallize once the bags are unpacked. For example, on this trip we discovered that we enjoy roaming on the way to a destination–in this case, our kids’ home–but as we head back towards home we just want to get home. Be home. We will remember this the next trip.

I also realized that even though we lived In Cleveland for 14 years ourselves, going there now is no longer about returning to where we once lived, but visiting where our kids live. This is their home, and we are their guests, enjoying Cleveland through their eyes and hearts. That feels like a shift.

The morning after our return my husband worked in the garden, and I grocery shopped and did a variety of other errands. Our normal routine is for each of us to do our own thing during the day, sharing the day’s events and thoughts with one another at suppertime. That works for us, and we eased right back into that pattern.

At the same time we are not quite the same people we were before we left on this road trip. Road trips change us, even if those changes are not immediately recognizable. We now hold new memories. We are now more aware of who we are now and what we most need to live fully right now. We bring deeper gratitude to these days, whether they are ones on the road or ones at home.

It is good to be home.

What are your routines when you return home? I would love to know.

The Gifts of a Roaming Day

January 17, 2023

“How long has it been since we roamed?” I asked my husband as we buckled our seat belts.

We guessed the last time was late in November when we drove around the lakes in suburbs west of Minneapolis. With most of the leaves on the ground, rather than on branches, we had clear views not only of lakeshore, but homes with water views –some huge and ostentatious and others old and more like summer cottages. A perfect day to imagine what it might be like to live in a lake community.

Since that day we had been occupied with the holidays and family events, the death of a dear friend, and weather unsafe for driving. The day had come, however, to resume our weekly practice of roaming. Seeing what we could see. Relaxing in the rhythm of the road. Learning something new, perhaps.

Our destination was Winona, a town in southern Minnesota situated on the Mississippi River. I did a little research and discovered that Winona means, “first born daughter” in the Dakotah language. I happen to be a first born daughter, so that felt like a good omen. When I looked up Winona on the internet I discovered there were over 40 homes or buildings listed on the National Registry of Historic Sites, including the public library, and we hoped to spot many of them as we wandered city streets. Part of our roaming this past fall was to visit the library in each town, but Winona’s was closed for the weekend as part of commemorating the Martin Luther King, Jr holiday. Next time, we said. And, believe me, there will be a next time.

Our main reason for going to Winona was to visit the Minnesota Marine Art Museum. https://www.mmam.org on the banks of the Mississippi River. That has been on our list for years, but even though a number of friends had told us what a special place it is, somehow the timing was never right. Who wanted to spend time in a museum during non-winter months and during the winter, finding the day when the weather conditions allowed for easy travel was a challenge. Besides, the image I had of the museum was a dark cavern of crusty oil paintings of old clippers ships. That just didn’t appeal to me, even though I think of myself as a person influenced by the element of water.

Instead, this museum, which opened in 2006 and is housed in a gorgeous turn-of-the century influenced building, is dedicated to great art inspired by water, including world-class impressionist and Hudson River School art. But the museum also seeks to showcase contemporary art that expands and opens one’s relationship to water.

Our timing, as it turns out, was perfect. We immersed ourselves in the work of Anne Labovitz. https://labovitz.com And immerse is the operative word. Along with nine large paintings that focus on water’s surface quality and luminosity, we entered into what felt like sacred space–an installation of gently swaying walls that mimic the slight movement of calm water. Along with seeing and feeling, one hears a soundscape recorded at sunrise on the shores of Lake Superior. I sat inside the waterscape, contemplating, remembering, as if real water was washing over me.

I know most of you who read my blog do not live close enough to visit the museum, but if you do, I urge you to go see this exhibit before it closes on January 21. Our visit to this museum reminded me, once again, that treasures reside everywhere, including our back yards.

What has been on your list forever that you simply have not accessed yet? What might you discover accidentally if you got out a map, a real map, and figured out how to get THERE from HERE? Or if that is not possible, what are the other ways to enliven your curiosity? Of course, books, and perhaps something in a genre you normally don’t read. But that can also be true for other media–watch a documentary, instead of a mystery or crime show. One friend is taking an online class on bird identification and knows that will add to the pleasures of her daily walks. Another friend told me recently that she does virtual tours offered by the Minneapolis Institute of Art, and I am sure many other museums offer similar opportunities. Or even simpler, have you ever walked through the doors of the church down the street or visited a library other than the one in your loop of life? Recently, a friend and I were driving home after lunch, and I spotted a beautiful old library I had never seen before, and that is now on my list. Perhaps follow a block and see where it ends and then turn around and see where it ends in the other direction, stopping when something interests you.

Become a tourist in your own part of the world. Become a tourist in your life.

Saturday my husband I set out in sunshine, hoping to see eagles and hawks and we did. (The day’s tally was nine eagles, but only one hawk who looked permanently frozen on a bare branch.) But we had not expected to be so uplifted and amazed. We felt honored and privileged by the gifts offered to us. And we know we will return in the spring and summer when the river is open and the museum gardens are in bloom.

In the meantime, I wonder where we will roam next.

An Invitation

Where or in what way is your curiosity inviting you to roam? I would love to know.