A man, as justification for me to move into his home, remarked, “for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also”. I scoffed, with disdain, at his attempt to bend a spiritual notion to suit his carnal desires.
The last few years, though, as I’ve moved from country to country, presumably satisfying my wanderlust, those words have haunted me. Home was always a physical place – where my bed was, inhabited by those I cared about most. Accordingly, I’m now homeless – most of my stuff is in storage, I go to an empty apartment at day’s end, and should I not show, my bed will not seek after me.
But, has the very scattering of my possessions and loss of physical proximity to family created this displacement or is it merely an allegorical parallel? For a short period I moved back to my parents’ home. Sadly, it did not re-settle my heart. I’m disillusioned – unaware if the treasure my heart seeks is material, human, or spiritual. I do know it no longer tolerates the flux and flight it’s endured the last decade. So I’m eagerly seeking my treasure, whatever it may be, wherever it may lie, in the hope it’ll grant my heart the reprieve it so longs from displacement.
- Araba N, Accra, Ghana – New York, NY