Almost Home

Some grey fall mornings are cozy in spite of themselves. The monochrome drenched air and cars and clouds, even people it seems, do not seem to bother me right now. The drive back from town where my son attends ESC is pleasant and even more so with the nuanced, gentle voice of Idir singing a soulful "Saoi", and in spite of being uncertain as to the meaning of the words of the song, I find myself humming along, trying to keep tune with the exotic Kabyle music that is so soothing to my immigrant heart. The car seems to be humming too, in harmony with my sentiments, and our faithful dog, Yara, is snoozing in the backseat. A warm sense of belonging seems to flow through me, and it is one of those wonderful moments where I feel I am almost home. You would think those moments come often after 37 years in the US, but that feeling is like a thin veneer on wood. It does not take much to provoke becoming unnerved or uncertain, or alienated. It is not like I have a clan that can help me soothe away those difficult, alienating moments, days, months, sometimes, years, or like I look like an immigrant from another culture. I blend right in, and that has its advantages, surely, but there are times I wish I looked foreign, even to my husband and son, so that it would be more obvious why I feel out of sorts or alignment some days. As it is , visibility is definitely not something I have to concern myself with, rather the opposite. But today, that thorn in my side seems irrelevant. I smile thinking back on the interesting dream I had last night, where I got a visit from a spiritual guide who turned out to be a terrific counselor and masseuse. He had a certain Don Juan stern quality to him, but he seemed lankier and younger than Don Juan, and his tolerance of my weariness on all sorts of matters had an unmistakably sensual quality and intrigue to it. It made for a deep, relaxed sleep I noticed when I woke this morning. The mind is very clever about getting the help it needs, given half a chance, is my experience. What a difference a day makes,right? I keep humming along with Idir's pleasantly sculptured and timbred voice, as the sun breaks hesitantly through the grey clouds and I wonder if I will see my guide in my dream tonight. What a pleasantly odd fellow, in his long brown hair ponytail, dark green shirt and quiet glasses, and what a pleasantly odd morning.