One of the things I've been working on happened today, a half day retreat for the Moms in Faith group at church. It was really, really good. Especially the Christian Yoga experience and the collage-nametag making experience.
(Which were, incidentally, the two things I didn't have anything to do with planning or leading.)
Here's my nametag, front and back:
There's bricks for our new house, the ocean for the bit of California that still resides in me, books for, well, books, and a peacock feather. Peacock feathers have become a symbol of friendship for me... they remind me of dear Allison, who wore a peacock feather in her hair when I did her wedding to dear Anthony. And dear Allison is such a quintessential friend she reminds me of friendship in general, if that makes sense.
So, from now on, as far as I'm concerned, peacock feathers = friendship. Sadly, that piece was the aspirational aspect of my collage, as somehow regular contact with my friends has been all but squeezed out of my calendar these days.
(See, there I go talking about The Busyness again.)
The backside, the heart-side, is all about peace and beauty and family and rootedness. And a sea turtle. I learned while researching a chapter for my book that turtles are a symbol of motherhood and wisdom.
I like the juxtaposition of the sea turtle and the state of Illinois. Just like I liked the front size juxtaposition of the bricks and the ocean. It makes a lot of sense to me that California is a place I yearned for, a place I went, and a place I left.
It's a place I miss, but a place I do not want to live again.
I didn't expect this to be about California.
But it is.
But, it's even more so about home. And as much as I love, love, love the people I met in California - including a certain Juliette, who is 100% Californian - it was never home.