They say it’s where the heart is. That there’s no place like it. It’s where we eat, sleep, work, pray, laugh, cry, slam doors, and open them back up again. It’s where we spend most of our lives. And the people that share that space with us are the closest relationships we have.
I’m out of town at a convention for work. I woke up in the middle of the night looking for the familiar layout of my bedroom. I realized I was not at home. I noticed the sense of longing I had to return. My comforts, my security, my abundant love, was far away. What is it about our homes that give us such peace and joy? Even on vacations, or fun nights on the town, there is an exhale that naturally comes out when you pull back into your driveway.
Now, I know that all of our homes are not sanctuaries of love and understanding. It can be a war zone at times, and feel like a place you want to escape from rather than return to. But those moments usually pass with time, and the centering and peace you are longing for is waiting for you there in your favorite spot.
Moments like last night remind me how important it is to make sure my home is a place where everyone in my family feels safe. Not just from storms or crime, but from judgement, ridicule, expectations and conditional love. A place where you feel like you belong. I read an article about homelessness. They said the hardest part was losing yourself. There is something in our hearts, in the design of our beings that needs a place of our own.
I’m not in a hurry. I have still have some more adventures to go on. But when I do, I'll recognize that familiar, comfortable feeling. I’m home.
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