[H] Truth Thursday 20: Versus

So first, the prompt.

I want to stay.
I want to leave.

Should I stay?
Should I leave?

Can I stay?
Can I leave?

There's amazing possibilities if I stay.
There's an incredible opportunity if I leave.

I'm stuck on a pendulum.

Going back and forth.
Back and forth.

Some moments I'm so sure,

Until the momentum drops,
And I'm swinging back to the other side.

I'm not so sure.

I'm a free spirit:
A wild bird, soaring with the wind.

And yet I long for home.
Is this home?

Will I ever know for sure?

Shall I build a nest?
Or shall I fly away?

Will I ever know for sure?

[H] Truth Thursdays 19: Within a Room Somewhere

If there is one thing I learned from my dad, it's how to grow within - how to shrink into oneself to protect oneself from a world that's always growing, always changing, always asserting itself upon new territories. Be like a rock. Run deeper within yourself where nobody else can follow. Nurture that sacred place within yourself - that wellspring of the heart, the soul, the id, the depths of your being. Let that be your hiding place, your safe spot, your recovery space. Grow within to grow without.

Within a room somewhere, lies a collection of elephant memorabilia. There is a box of old notes and letters full of inside jokes and the usual high school silliness. On the walls are little pieces of the places I've been, the people I've met, and the memories I never want to leave behind. There are lights, candles, curtains, bows, and incense to nurture calm and comfort. But this is not where I feel alone.

I feel alone on my rooftop, underneath the silent, watching sky. I feel alone as I watch the breeze lift the clouds as they tumble into each other, forming shapes like a pair of polished acrobats pulling against each other to hold the perfect pose, then plungeing into each other to do it again. I feel alone as the stars tease the moon in twinkling winks and choruses of shaking giggles. And even at night, when the stars can't make it past the pollution of the city cars beeping and honking in the distance, or through the dark clouds of an approaching storm; even in the daytime when the rain falls in roaring torrents like angry voices in a rally demanding change, or when it sprinkles in soft, shy, droplets like the whisper of a timid lover - I feel alone.

I feel alone but not lonely. Under the majestic vastness of the heavens, I can feel myself unwind. Clarity comes as I unravel in the security of my alone-ness. It is where I cry, laugh, pray, and celebrate. It's where I make my commitments and resolutions. It's where I learn to forgive and let go. I can release myself, alone, to the sky that has borne witness to every single event in history since the beginning of time - the same sky that has watched me grow through 11 houses, 3 home countries, and a million goodbyes. See, to me, the sky is the physical representation of the presence of God. So it is under the sky where I find myself, build myself, grow myself. Where I heal myself. With all my cares and worries left behind. Forgotten. Within a room somewhere.