draining the car battery with my uncle

on being where you belong

Where does your breath feel lightest?

When do you breathe most easily?

When I round the corner and see my Nanny’s yellow house on top of that hill, my whole self relaxes.

I belong here.

This is my space.

This has been the place of my people for a couple of hundred years.

Driving in, there was an odd looking red headed dude walking in the middle of the road. It looked like he was rolling a joint. At first he seemed strange. Then I looked again. He looked kinda like me.

Perhaps he’s another cousin from that side of the family we don’t really speak to much.

I’ve found that in this community, I have a lot of distant connections to a lot of people.

All of this contributes to a sense I have of belonging here.

As I rounded the corner, I saw my uncle. I stopped. He stopped. We turned off our cars and started chin wagging.

Neither of us really parked in a smart way.

Other cars were coming in and out of the parking lot.

Some were gathering up their boats, others were registering in the office.

My uncle and I?

We were in the way.

We didn’t move.

He noticed that cars maneuvering around us. We were inconvenient lumps. Some were having difficulty with us.

It didn’t matter.

We belonged there.

Two trucks pulled in.

One was white, the other red.

My cousins had just driven down from the house they grew up in.

Between their trucks, my little car and my uncle’s SUV, no one was getting past us for a few minutes.

Sure, it was a busy Saturday night at the campground.

It didn’t matter.

My uncle and I were talking.

The others were in the store.

We belonged there.

The others could go around.

They would need to adjust.

I sat there so long chin wagging with my uncle that I drained my car battery.

Oops.

I felt like I could have stayed there talking all night.

I feel this way on stage.

This is how my cousin Jerry felt too.

That’s why he so freely told his heckler:

I don’t like you. I really do not like you.

He was confident, clear and in his place.

He owned the stage. He owned the amphitheatre. At that moment?

He owned the whole damn city.

Well, he’s not my cousin. He’s a stand up comic.

Stand up comics are cousins to remarkable fools and clowns everywhere.

And when we are on stage, with a full ‘house’ ready to play?

That’s where we have our authority and power.

On stage, we’re the monarchs, the kings and queens of the castle.

With our ‘house’ watching, we’re most at home.

Where do you ‘belong’?

Where do you find your power?