Sitting in one of the many dirty fuzzy seats in the metro.
In one of the many carriages, amongst the many faceless people, waiting to go home.
We journey together in a big wave, exhausted with weariness. Keeping each other company without saying a word.
Everyone is tired, too tired to think, to move, so we are swept en masse toward our destination.
How can we all be travelling to the same place? You ask. You don’t even know each other.
But we are. We are all going home.
I do not know any of them, and I keep my hood lowered. They cannot see my face.
I plug in my ipod, for all intents and purposes, inert to my general surroundings. I could be a pole in the train. Or a dog on his leash with sympathetic eyes. Or the doors, sliding open and close, open and close.
I have reached a point where I no longer need to stare anxiously out the window or at the map to make sure I don’t miss my stop. I simply wait. And then, I know.
The city has become familiar to me. It is my third, no- fourth home. Which also means it is time to leave soon. I am swept from city to city, I lay down roots, and they never let me go.
I am held down to each city that I call home. I know the people there, and I know what makes them happy, what gives them pain. I know where to find soy bean milk, and sesame oil, and I know where to seek spiritual refuge. I have laid down roots, and also hiding places in all of them.
The hiding place of each of my homes is the most beautiful, sacred place. In it I can find peace in nature, but also be free to cry buckets of tears without being judged, without people staring and pointing, as if sadness is unnatural. I can walk through shimmery leafed boulevards, next to rivers or lakes, and I can cry about things that have not yet happened, or about tragic ends of loved ones, or about hatred, or neglect. Completely in my imagination, of course, but that’s what a hiding place is for, isn’t it? The free rein to dream the worst about yourself, the worst about others, the free rein to be as insecure as you actually are, because there is nobody there to be strong for. No facades.
Just you, and your Maker,
all the other things He has made-
and a promise of faithfulness.