Well, no matter. That means it's time to dive into my yearly week of giving thanks, since one day isn't really enough to fully appreciate what I'm grateful to have in my life. Well, nor is a week, for that matter, but it's better. Last year's posts can be found by clicking on the tag, of course, and this year I did actually go back and read them this weekend, and though there will obviously be some overlap, I also have plenty to be thankful for so it won't all be repeats.
Today, I'm thankful for my homes. Yes, there's the home where I live, where most of my stuff is, where I love to gather close friends and loves for food and companionship, and where my roommates and I crack jokes late at night, but I also have the home where I grew up, and where my parents still live, both the house itself, but possibly more importantly, the place and many of the people who make it meaningful to me.
But in the rich overabundance of my life, I have scattered other homes around the places I've been. Some of these, like Xela, are anchored in the place but made meaningful by the people, by the kinds of interactions I have there. Although the Proyecto is different each time I go, there's always, so far at least, a surprise in who and how many people I know. I know their doors will always be open to me and that when I go, I'll find someone to share a cafecito and to laugh about some damn fool thing I did in my first weeks there.
Some of my homes are anchored entirely in the people who live there and will always welcome me, no matter where they are or where I am in my life. These are scattered about the country and world, and they move around from time to time, but they're there, wherever there might be at a given moment.
And this year, I discovered a new home in Black Rock City, which is temporally anchored, but it's made meaningful by so many things that I think it'll have to have its own entry at some point this week.