I’ve been ‘homesick’ for a long time, decades, actually. It’s not exactly ‘homesick’ as in missing some place I once was, or still call home… it’s homesick for a specific sense of ‘home’ that I’ve experienced only rarely. I have moments when I feel this particular feeling of ‘home’, and it fills me up and nourishes my soul in a way I don’t have quite the right words for. I don’t yearn for it continuously, or seek it with any regular method or pace. The feeling comes and goes. When the homesick feeling arrives it feels as if it were there in the background, already. When it dissipates I am relieved, and continue on as if it never were, and I go on enjoying the moments that feel like home.
I sometimes feel a sense of being at home when I am sitting quietly, watching the fish in my aquarium.
During my lunch walk I considered thoughts of ‘home’ and what ‘feels like home’ to me, as an individual. I walked, smiling, feeling the fresh spring breezes tickle my skin with the fringe of over-grown bangs I chronically tuck behind my ears. I felt the sun warm my face, and enjoy the way it glows through the new spring leaves along my way. My way. That feels like home, too. I stopped to swing on the swings in the park for a few minutes before walking on.
Is being at home a feeling I take with me?
Simple pleasures feel like home…
Is being at home something one practices?
There’s more than one perspective on ‘home’…
Do we ‘find our way home’, or do we ‘build the home of our dreams’?
Life’s curriculum wrapped in spring breezes and blue skies – I’m okay with that.
Is home ‘where the heart is’? What does that actually mean? An interesting thought to finish the evening; a meditation on home and heart.
Today is just about finished, here. Where will tomorrow take me? What will I learn? Will I wake and find the day as gentle and amenable to growth as I have found the evening? Tonight I close my eyes, smiling, wishing the world well, and hoping everyone gets home safely.
Evening Light 