Roots

This afternoon I've been reading Craig Childs' very engaging House of Rain, a travelogue through the world of the Anasazi which offer the promise of "an enthralling revisionist portrait of American prehistory." But, the statement that just grabbed me was Childs' description of his own childhood which included moving every year or two, a description that not only matches my childhood but also my adult years. Childs states: "Migration simply happens to some people. Maybe a restless, spring-loaded gene keeps us on the move, or an alignment of perpetual coincidences pushes us from place to place."

For most of my life I've listened to stories about people who lived in the same house all their lives with a sense of yearning, almost envy. A friend of mine lives in the house her parents lived in, a house she has lived in since she was 12. I can't imagine that much continuity or roots that go that deep. As I sit in a new home in a new state in a new life condition, I suddenly wonder if I'm part of that "alignment of perpetual coincidences" that push me from place to place. As much as I like to think I want to settle down and stay in one place, perhaps I am a wanderer. Or maybe, my roots take other forms ... while I move around more than normal, I tend to keep people in my life forever. My friend Judy says I am part of "her people" and she is part of mine. Somehow, there is a tribe of "my people' who are connected even though we're geographically dispersed.

But, the yearning for roots still runs strong and I wonder if I will ever find a place that will be "my place." Or will the "perpetual coincidences" keep pushing me around?