If stress could be measured on a richter scale, similar to the one used to discern and forecast earthquakes, I would decline to have my current stress levels measured.  Sometimes ignorance is bliss.  For unlike preparing for an earthquake, life at this moment feels too topsy-turvy to prepare for in any way shape or form.  As for an anchor, the anchor, that usually assists in keeping me somewhat steady   Well, let’s just say the anchor has been dislodged with a huge rip tide or two or maybe even three. 

I have been waiting, sort of, to write about my adventures as I returned to the Big City and a different and new life ~ the life post-doctorate degreee.  Waiting until I felt positive and centered and non-stressed.  Why?  I am not sure.  Sometimes misery loves company.  But not always.  I think I wanted to report that the life fantasy of working hard and achieving short, mid, and long term goals was/is all worth the anxiety filled days and years.  Today, my testimonial would not affirm the hard work/achievements = success and happiness myth. 

Being without a home is unhinging to me.  Home, having a place to sit down and sup some tea, to burn some incense, to thank the Universe for all that is good and abundant in life ~ home, the place where one’s bed roll can be spread out and one’s body can relax and a deep cleansing breath can be released.  I have had many a home and I have had none.  I can remember what a home feels like and I do not have a memory of delicious aromas of a rich bean soup wafting from the kitchen. 

Tomorrow I am called on, once again, to get up and go forth and meet the challenge of beginning yet one more new job.  I begin my postdoctoral internship within the next 24 hours.  That means, my butt is back on the BART and the bus.   That means, I will be putting my brave face on along with my Big Girl Pants.  At least that’s what I hope it means because the alternative, staying in my Scaredy Girl Pants and not getting on the train, means not fulfilling my obligations, not moving forward toward licensure. 

More to the point at this moment though is my longing for home.  a home.  my home.