last night home

November 27, 2010

Last night at home = warm fire, Eric Church, spelt cornbread and Patricia Hickman. In the midst one of her novels, I found this -   


"If God had handed each person - say Adam and Eve, for starters - a little box and said, 'Now, here's your portion of love. Don't spend it all in one place,' man would have taken his box. But instead of handing it over to his mate, he would have poured it all over his puny, quivering, naked body as he danced in paradise and shouted to Eve, 'Look at me! I'm in love, I'm in love,' while Eve just shook her head and said, 'You certainly are Adam. Have a good time without me.' But God allowed little potent traces of love to inhabit us in places where we could not extract it and use it for our own selfish purposes. We could only give it away. Therein lies the essence of heartache - the pain of what ensues thereafter." 


Home, I've found, is the best place to deal with all the feelings one stuffs down while running around elsewhere, busy being fine. 


I've cried three times this week, for no particular reason, and I'm leaving for LA feeling twenty times more whole. 


It's been a lovely mini-vacation. 


(photo via Angela Fairfield)

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