no return

Salted wisdom assures us we can never go home again. Yet Lassie made the trip, so did Dorothy, and the fifth little piggy too. RVs were seemingly invented to ensure folks they could skip the leaving all together.

For the past eight months I have been driving with that little fellow sitting on the console. Paper cranes are significant in many cultures, standing for any number of blessings, and they are a memorable part to me of a favorite "Northern Exposure" episode.

It draws my attention back to the concept of 'home'. Much like my inanimate travel companion, I think we want to have something that remains the same regardless the weather, our mood, or the shape of the relationships in our life. For better or worse, we have to take life on its own terms, as a warts and all Polaroid one chance type experience and not get taken in by the ease of fixing it all in post, as we do in our digital world.

Strange as it may seem, but I have looked at that tiny yellow piece of three-dimensional paper during the changing climates of these past months and realized that it sits there like a compass of sorts, always headed in the direction I am going without judgment.

It's nice to have that.