there was a man on the bus with
bags and bags and bags.
he was talking to anyone who would listen,
friendly, fascinating.

i got tearful,
because i missed the familiarity of
being part of this downtown.
of it being my home.

in moving, she said its familiarity she missed most.
i would say its community.
but they aren't far apart.

i miss having 'my' places...
where i know the best coffee,
the cheapest curry, the friendliest faces.

i miss walking downtown and being known.

familiarity.

in a big city its hard to find.
even hard in transition.

there is value in change and exploration.
beauty in discovering new things.
meeting new people.
having new adventures.

but nothing can replace the familiarity of your community.
of knowing and being known.
of the strangers being familiar still.

i wouldn't trade these new experiences,
but i grow in appreciation for what i've left behind.
and have a greater understanding of why
people crave being settled.

i don't want to be settled.
but this unsettled feeling that comes with transition
does not feel particularly comfortable either.

and yet, as soon as i am with familiar faces,
i lose some of this anxiety,
settle into the safety of relationship,
rather than the comfort of place.

but its being alone. in a new place.
without the time to commit,
or the friends to engage.

i feel disconnected from the community,
a passerby... nomad... on my way through...
not a part of. here or there.
its early on, and its a choice made...
but that does not mean its always comfortable.

if one familiar face were to walk by,
i'd feel immensely more at rest.
i'd know that i had a place.
even in the midst of this transition.