I'm all moved in, and even in the few days I've been here I've been struck by how nice it is to come home to a place where people are likely to be watching The Daily Show on someone's laptop, listening to an NPR analysis of the Democratic National Convention, or cooking something lusciously aromatic in the kitchen. Or building an IKEA table. Or playing Brazilian music for no reason other than that the house has a record player and it's a fine day for Brazilian music (and isn't every day?). In other words, this is a real home, and I haven't lived in one for more than 4 years -- and even then, there was less intention behind the homemaking.
What's also struck me is how easy it feels for me to dedicate my Friday nights to Shabbat dinner. Maybe it's because I'm just coming out of a two-and-a-half-year relationship and my weekend evenings are mysteriously free; maybe it's really because I'm at a stage of life where I don't feel like I need to rush out to the bars or some nightlife-ish event on a Friday night. Maybe it's actually more nourishing to spend one night of the weekend with my housemates and members of the lovely and growing community they've established in, impressively, less than a year's time. The feeling that led me to become a resident of Seattle's Moishe House in the first place was one of familial comfort -- a sense of belonging that hit me immediately, even though I didn't really know anyone yet. Perhaps it's largely because I'm finally trying to embrace, rather than run away from, Jewish identity and connection. Perhaps it's because intentional community is something I've sought since 2001, when I graduated from college, and am only now rediscovering -- coming home to, if you will. Whatever the reason(s), I'm glad I live here. Tuesday night potlucks and Friday night dinners never fail to raise my spirits, which these days is no small thing.
One last note: Today I was at PCC, shopping for Shabbat-dinner salad ingredients, when a middle-aged woman pulled over in her car and asked me about my Obama bumper sticker (it says "Barack Obama" in Hebrew). Specifically, she asked where I got it, and I told her it came from the Ravenna Kibbutz. She said: "I didn't know Ravenna had a kibbutz!" (Common response.) So I explained the Moishe House organization to her very briefly and gave her the Kibbutz's Web address. I've never been much of a proselytizer for anything -- certain movies, maybe, and my college co-op system -- but it's nice to be able to promote a place I believe in and actually call home, too.
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