The Second Child - Session 3

(Beep. Music fades in)

I can’t tell you how to feel about home or how to define it. In some sense, it’s the sort of thing that defies the act of description, and if that seems like a cliche to you, please describe the sensation of air against your skin before you vocalize any criticisms. Like it or not, there are just some things we take for granted. There are some things we know so deeply in our souls that no description will ever do them justice. And for many–particularly those who were born into a relatively happy one–the concept of home is one of those things. 

Now, you might want to say that I am in a better position than most in this endeavor. I might have a chance at defining it then, given what I just said. To which, you would quickly add that this rather unique ability is the one and potentially only reward for the miseries of my childhood. And you wouldn’t entirely be wrong. But even I can’t do it. Not won’t but outright can’t. It is beyond me. I don’t know if I even believe in the concept of home. So no, you’re not the only one who finds themselves doubting that such a thing can really exist, but I think we doubt for different reasons. And therein lies the thing we need to talk about. This is a longstanding view for me, but for you, it’s only something you’ve had for a matter of weeks. You think this novelty is why it is so hard for you to hold, why it doesn’t fit against your chest just so, but really, there’s so much more to it than that.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

Don’t worry, I won’t make you answer for your beliefs here. For one, that’s not fair, really. This is meant to be a conversation, albeit a one-sided conversation. I don’t mean to put you on trial. But on the other hand–or part of the reason why the first hand is so important–I’m not convinced you really believe what you say you believe. I know you think you believe it. I know you claim to be earnest because I think you make such a claim because it would all be easier that way. Because you don’t have to sit down and really interrogate yourself, what you think, or why it is you want to think. That sort of introspection is important, but I recognize that it isn’t easy. It may very well show us the parts of ourselves we’re so desperate to run from. 

Or that’s what we say when we talk about it, right? We say that’s the main reason we’re inclined to busy ourselves with anything else but that is simply about hiding the worst parts of ourselves, but it is more than that. Because self-introspection isn’t just about ourselves and the parts that we need to treasure or nurture because let’s be realistic here, no one is perfect. It’s also about where we fit in the larger world. It’s about comparing the piece that is us against the larger backdrop around us. They will not match all the time. Yes, some discrepancies are to be expected, but we aren’t always the problem when it goes beyond that. 

There’s something comforting about us being the problem though. Because we can change ourselves. Whereas, we can’t change the world around us. Especially if it doesn’t need to be changed. Or if that need is not urgent, in the traditional sense. 

So what if everyone’s notion of home doesn’t really apply to you? What does it matter? You don’t matter. I mean, in some way you do, certainly, but not in this. Not when it comes to this. Not when it comes to your anxieties, fears, and the lingering tremble in your heart. Or figurative heart. If it was your literal heart, you would really need to go to the doctor about that. 

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

That litany of self-diminishing isn’t unfamiliar, I know. I know that’s what you say to yourself all the time. You can practically hear your voice superimposed onto mine. You knew it was going to come up. You knew I was going to say it. But that element of it, this intermingling of our voices is not what you were expecting. And you aren’t sure why. I mean, in hindsight, it makes sense. But to hear it in that way, even if it was figurative, stung in an unexpected way. 

Or you would have called it unexpected. Simply because you’re in the habit of running from it, running passionately and ardently, and you’ve gotten pretty good at getting away from it. Now it isn’t even a habit you’re fully aware of, anymore. Even now, as we got pulled along this tangent, you’ve hardly noticed. Because it felt right. It felt right to move away from the conversation about home and how you secretly believe it doesn’t exist in any form. Or how you’ve convinced yourself that you really don’t believe in the concept of home anymore. 

I know you’re nervous and scared to hear this, but you need to. You need to understand that what you don’t believe in is the imagery we’ve attached to this important word. You had been taught to think of home as a place where you could completely lay down your guard and rest. You could immerse yourself fully in ever slow, natural breath, bathing yourself in a rhythm you had heard so many describe. It had sounded like a far flung fantasy when you first heard it. You’d never known that sort of calm, but it was the sort of thing you dreamed about, right? You just needed a break or two, right? You weren’t going to ask for anything more. You didn’t believe you deserved more. 

But still, whether or not you deserved it, you were going to pursue those smaller moments of calm. You needed them, merits aside. So you searched for it, you search for home, even in the workplace. Granted, it was the last place you looked, and fair enough on that one. I would have been more worried if you started off there, but there was a drawback to this approach. It meant that when you–predictably–did not find it, you had reason to give up hope that you ever could. And that’s soul-crushing.

You tried to hold on, maybe long after you should have, but I can’t blame you for that. No one should. No one should mock you for trying to carve out a space for yourself there because the alternative would have been so much worse. And it’s now where you find yourself. Without a concept of home, just as you are without your dad who always gave you some sort of comfort that you would stumble upon it one day. But easier said than done. 

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

I know that all too well. I remember when my girlfriend and I first moved in together. I remember thinking that our shared apartment was going to be home, that I would heave sighs of relief far beyond what I thought my lungs were capable of holding, but it wasn’t like that. There were moments like that, but then the dreams invaded our bedroom, bringing fears I could never chase away. I think there’s a delicacy to it that no one ever talks about. And that’s what I’m stuck on. I understand your point about the perfect tranquility but, you know we can both be right simultaneously. There’s a lot to consider. A lot of points where everything could come apart in this fantasy. 

That doesn’t mean you should stop searching, though. It just means that your search should take on a different nature. I know you need to rest. We all need to rest,  but you won’t get it by chasing a mythical tale. That’s what you need to understand.  

(Music fades out. Beep)

The Oracle of Dusk is a production of Miscellany Media Studios with music licensed from the Sounds like an Earful music supply. It was written, edited, produced, and performed by MJ Bailey. And if you like the show, tell friends about it or the quasi-friends that are still on your social media feeds because social norms evolved before words did, am I right?