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Hi Maggie,

It's a rainy day today.  The whole day has been kind of gray. I watch, I think - my mind wanders, I forget as everything slithers out of my brain.

My grandkids stayed over last night.  They like to fall asleep in my bed.  Now that they are older and bigger, I leave them there and go sleep on the couch. This morning, really early, I woke up.  I was aware of all the sleeping beings in my house - my daughter, nephew, three grandchildren, three dogs, and my cat-companion, and I was also aware of a feeling of complete serenity.  It felt so much like home, like I was in the right nest.

I think one of the things that has plagued me most of my life is not feeling at home. It sort of pairs with always being afraid, which I have to admit has lessened a lot since we have bonded and have met here every day.  Because we moved every year as children, I never learned how to root...until the first time I came to this hill overlooking this lake.  Something in me exhaled...I felt at home.

This house felt the same. Like this is where I could work and live and play and maybe even pray.

S#3 and I have talked about this before.  She says she still does not feel at home, she does not know what it means to be at home.

Does any of this resonate with you? 

I was wondering why S#3 and I are the siblings that show our pain with excess weight.  Does it tie with not understanding how to be at home, or maybe - how to root?

How are you feeling, love?  How have your weekend, your school tour, and your homework gone?

Love and hugs and sweet dreams,

Clare