It has been a quiet week for me so far. I was all abuzz this past weekend nesting. A dear friend spent last Saturday helping me shop for all we needed to then hang a painting, a heavy sculpture, a shelf and assemble a few items I had purchased from IKEA. But my best friend has been keeping her nieces for a few days, tending to upcoming family events, so she has not been as available as usual. As a result, I am feeling a little tired, solitary, and ready for the coming week of vacation I have scheduled.

This state of being in what seems like limbo reminds me of something powerful my therapist Leah said to me once. We were exploring the experience of emptiness I felt a lot as a child. That feeling carried over into early adulthood and often scared or depressed me. She helped me reframe the experience by suggesting that, now as an adult, it was not a state of nothingness, but of possibility. That realization profoundly changed my perception of my inner life, and I have not been the same since.

I took my car in for a repair this week, and the dealership issued me a loaner. The loaner had the radio on, which is not something that I usually do in my car because I use my phone or CDs to listen to music while driving. A song came on that I had only heard parts of before, and the title “Home” caught my attention. Phillip Phillips sings it, and the lyrics resonate:

Hold on to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you're not alone
'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home
Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble—it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found
Just know you're not alone
'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home

Phillip is singing this song to a person, but in my single-minded state, I have been declaring this song for myself. I am not alone, home is within me, and I am being found. Songs are poetry set to music, and I find that often a song is a bridge for me. I am on one side of an experience, and a particular song will encourage me to cross over into a more hopeful place that I am not completely grounded in yet.

In the song “Home,” there is a faint “Come on!” right before the last “ooo” and “aaa” at the end.

Yeah girl, come on!