“Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.” ~Charles Dickens
I love to come home. I love to say the word home. Just the feel of it in my mouth relaxes me. It is where I rest most fully and where I connect most deeply. My home is in the midst of big trees where the air always smells sweet and you can hear the wind and the birds. I am blessed to make a home in nature, even when the ants and the bees sorely outnumber me.
The work of imagining and making a home has been the foundation of my adult life having suffered through the lack of it for most of my childhood. It embodies the space of being understood and accepted. It is the safety of respite and support. It is the place where we get to rehearse our lines before we face the world. Having this kind of home makes the rest of life bearable even at its most unbearable.
Home heals you when you are ill and makes you stronger when you are weak. It is the place where we fuel and recharge. It is a true source of positivity.