Finding home, in myself

I went to church yesterday, and spent the rest of the day with adopted family. I hadn't gotten to hang out with them in about a month; either they or I had been busy or gone. It's a month, that a lot of personal work has happened in.

We had a really good time. I was in a quiet mood, but I haven't laughed that much in ages. And I kept noticing things in myself that were different—nothing huge, but lots of significant small things. I'm in a different place—a stronger, more secure, more authentic place—and I've never been here before, but it feels like home.

They saw it too, from the first second they saw me. I went to the Ranch, did everything I did there, and came back looking visibly healthy.

Yay and alleluia.

The march on Saturday was great, or at least the parts I attended. I met Bishop Marc and the rest of our group at Grace Cathedral, and we marched, singing, down the hill to the Civic Center. I stayed for a few of the speakers: a student leader, Code Pink, Tom Ammiano, and my bishop—and then my homework called me, and I left. (I don't know where Dolores Park is, or even if I just spelled it right, and didn't feel like navigating Muni as well as BART to get home. Also, I'd just come from a retreat center out in nowhere, and was feeling crowded out in the city.)

As I was leaving, others came in; the labor contingent was huge, and the total number of marchers was something like 10,000. I'm really glad it happened, and that I got to be part of it, and on a different day I'd have stayed for everything.

Monday. Ugh. Gotta go.