These are my final hours in my old house. Tomorrow I´ll move to a new city. This is my 10th move in 18 years at two continents. And I have always those strange feelings...
I belong to those ones who have hardly ties to special places and homes. Sometimes I wish I would have. Actually I have a strong desire finally to come home...
In medieval thinking a human is a "homo viator", a traveler, a human on the way. This was a reference to human`s home in God.
Once I had to do in Santiago de Compostella, the big city at the end of the way of St. James. There I spoke with people having walked the way of around 1000 kilometer. Now we understand what it means to be on a long pilgrimage, they said.
Moving to another home - and I swear I didn`t choose to move but found always a desicion "coming from outside" - is maybe another "hidden" plan of God reminding us that we are travelers, while some of us have the luck of enjoying the stability of a permanent home.
I thought I`ll write those lines in my empty room with only a desk, a light and my computer 30 minutes before midnight.
God, I have become a ramshakle man...
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