I am not quite certain. I don't believe that one can ever truly come home.
Like Odysseus, I am forever an exile.
I am bringing back my blog, at least as a trial run. We shall see.
I have returned to it as a visitor. I reread some of the posts. Before I went live, I considered editing some of what I wrote all those years before to make things easier for the people I included. Then I decided not to edit. This is my truth. I love the people I wrote about. They know I do. Life is messy.
Allowing that ambiguity to hold me is a new sensation; it's not fear or panic. I own the ripples. I own not seeing all the patterns; I won't annotate; I won't explicate. I live.