Home.

Last weekend I watched my roommate and various other friends participate in a half marathon. The whole time I was watching these people run by (getting rather nauseous trying to find Julie...) I was getting more and more pumped up about running. That high has lasted through this week and has reenergized me on my morning runs. Enabling me to run farther and feel better about my exercise routine. When I run I preform what is known as "the cardinal sin" of runners. I wear head phones. And listen to music. If you are a true race runner, you know this is usually not even allowed at a race because you cannot fully understand what all is going on around you. But, I have to have music to run. Only one of the reasons why I will probably never achieve my goal of marathon running. This morning I turned up the music. Loud enough so that I couldn't hear my thoughts or the cat calls of my latino neighbors but soft enough so I could still hear the passing traffic. (Safety first, that's what I've always said...)

But, this morning on my run, I heard a song I had never heard before. It's by someone who I was just recently introduced to, Marc Scibilia. If you have the chance I fully recommend his album "From Brooklyn to Maine." I have recently been expanding my music collection and opening my mind to new artists and songs. So, when this song first came on my mp3 player, I wasn't sure what it was, however the song, "This World Ain't My Home" totally spoke to me. My whole life I have felt restless. Not able to stay in one location for more than a few years and more recently, not feeling like I have a permanent home. Not necessarily longing for these things of permanency, but often times feeling anxious and in flux. Anxious about where I will be working or living next year. Anxious about what I want to do with my life. Anxious about the tensions in my life of wanting to feel "in the moment" and yet needing to look forward. I think this song says it all. For me, for my anxieties, for my current life of flux. And hopefully, for some of you as well:

"This World Ain't My Home"

by Marc Scibilia

"I've been to Paris, I've been to Rome.

I've seen a little bit of the world that's known,

but it seems no matter where I go,

I know this world, it ain't my home.

I've got keys to a house that's on loan,

I've got keys to a car with rust and chrome.

I've keys to things I'll never own,

'cause I know this world, it ain't my home.

You take me so very close,

but I can't cut down this thought that grows,

that no matter where I rest or roam,

I know this world, it ain't my home.

Sometimes it seems a far off dream,

just in sight but out of reach,

I don't know where to go but I just keep going,

'cause I know this world, it ain't my home.

And I used to treasure jewels like years,

'till these ancient words met my ears.

Now a ruby's just another stone,

'cause I know this world, it ain't my home.

And you take me so very close,

but I can't cut down this thought that grows,

that no matter where I rest or roam,

I know this world, it ain't my home.

Maybe I could try to fall in love again,

find a little house with a picket fence,

but you know, you know that I, I am a travelin' man,

to a distant country and a far off land.

And when my time is used and done,

when I see that final settin' sun,

I'll leave everything I've ever known,

And that house above, it will be my home."