Heaven My Home


I moved again this weekend!  This was my 20th move in 12 years.  Surprisingly enough, or unsurprisingly enough, depending on how well you know me, this will likely not be my last move either.  However, it is such a beautiful next step on my journey.  No longer in an apartment, I have settled into a quiet suburban neighborhood with a middle school field right across from my adorable duplex.  (It’s basically a house that has been split into two units.)

Our neighbors are all so welcoming and I couldn’t be more grateful.  We’ve received mint from our new friends garden, another neighbor, and her husband of 34 years, helped us move in our heavy furniture when they saw me panting and struggling to carry it on our front lawn and our closest duplex neighbors are an adorable young couple expecting their first little one.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the word “home” lately.  Its definition is a fairly clear statement that ‘it’s where one lives’.  But humans, as a species, have defined a home as something so much more than that.  My home growing up was chaotic and turbulent and oftentimes not where I wanted to be – so I’ve spent 12 years searching for what I considered and expected a home to feel like.  A safe, sacred and warm place filled with love, intention, gentleness, and welcoming.  A refuge for friends or for passersby.  Food, tea, compassion, kittens, and blankets abound!

But no matter how beautiful the decorative pillow accents or the walnut mid-century modern pieces are, there has been one learning that has taken me these 12 years to discover.  This Earth, in all of her magnificence, glory, and wonder is my home.  With her creaking floors and high ceilings, her bright open windows all the way to her sometimes tilted foundation. I can move to any place in this world and be at home – and I’m so glad I’ve learned this.

Laying in the Redwood Forest
Heaven isn’t far, it’s simple to see,
Embraced by song, your skin, stars dangling,
A sparkling symphony.
To touch your hand and to make a promise,
Planting intentions, wishes, kisses.
Forever, represented as a redwood tree.
Growing and expanding the uncomfortable new roots make way in the soil.
Bursting open, the sprigs.
Seeking sunshine.
Carrying nourishment from the roots,
Gathering golden light,
Dancing in the divine of creation,
Of new life.
Heaven is a word.
But I am at home in your forest.

3 thoughts on “Heaven My Home

    1. Yes, I think all to often we can forget how comfortable and welcoming our own planet is. How it’s evolved to offer us everything we need to survive. It’s like going about our daily lives; driving, eating, working, playing, spilling coffee on the table, etc. and realizing that you went through an entire day without being grateful for your arms or your hands – the very same appendages that made your day successful. I like reminding myself to be grateful for our home; body, minds, spirits and earth.

      Liked by 1 person

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