Home. The more you say it, the deep it goes. Aum. It was fairly shocking to read this, resonate with it, then have you repeat the essence of the sentiment evoked, that I have felt many times. Such as right now, packed in a sea of humans on a bus in India. The feeling of diffusion when Our Hearts are spread over time and space.
Thank you for your courage and your honesty. One of the things I value about your writing and teaching is that you are you, and you offer what you know from a place of vulnerability (as well as tremendously rich knowledge). You never try to be someone else or minimize what you feel and the pain you carry. I honor that deeply. Home is so difficult for many of us, and you speak to that with such truth. I feel fortunate that after years of wandering, I have made myself a home here in the high desert of northern New Mexico, and it feels nourishing and right. Which is not to say I don't wish for love and companionship too, but I have friends and community, human and wild, and I am sustained and nurtured. My heart will always yearn for the landscapes of northwest Wyoming, the home of my spirit, but I can't live with the human culture there. So I live here where the southern Great Plains bend upwards to meet the Rocky Mountains, where blue grama grows with galena grass and sand sage, and where the coyotes sing me to sleep and sage thrashers bathe in my bird bath. My heart is full.
Thank you for articulating something similar to what I feel. Over Thanksgiving, I went "home" and stayed with my parents. They live in the house I spent the last decade of my childhood in. There were all the elements of home, but I came to the realization while there that my dad is emotionally abusive and narcissistic and was during my whole childhood. I don't think he's necessarily a bad person. I think he's the product of an emotionally and physically abusive home and he can't imagine anything different.
During the months leading up to going home, I felt very home sick and when I finally got there, I couldn't sleep. It was too emotionally painful to be there. I was in a type of culture shock. I was seeing the way I grew up through completely new eyes. Coming back to where I currently live felt more like home, but it's still not home. I suppose that I've resigned myself to always living with that longing.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and feelings on 'home', Kelly. I have been sorting through similar things in my own life lately. The call to past homes, trying to be present in my current home, wondering where my next home may/should be. It is uncomfortable, scary, lonely, and yet at times even hopeful to sit with. May we all find our homes and feel at home in life.
Home. The more you say it, the deep it goes. Aum. It was fairly shocking to read this, resonate with it, then have you repeat the essence of the sentiment evoked, that I have felt many times. Such as right now, packed in a sea of humans on a bus in India. The feeling of diffusion when Our Hearts are spread over time and space.
I guess this IS home.
Mahalo for the medicine.
Thank you for your courage and your honesty. One of the things I value about your writing and teaching is that you are you, and you offer what you know from a place of vulnerability (as well as tremendously rich knowledge). You never try to be someone else or minimize what you feel and the pain you carry. I honor that deeply. Home is so difficult for many of us, and you speak to that with such truth. I feel fortunate that after years of wandering, I have made myself a home here in the high desert of northern New Mexico, and it feels nourishing and right. Which is not to say I don't wish for love and companionship too, but I have friends and community, human and wild, and I am sustained and nurtured. My heart will always yearn for the landscapes of northwest Wyoming, the home of my spirit, but I can't live with the human culture there. So I live here where the southern Great Plains bend upwards to meet the Rocky Mountains, where blue grama grows with galena grass and sand sage, and where the coyotes sing me to sleep and sage thrashers bathe in my bird bath. My heart is full.
Thank you for articulating something similar to what I feel. Over Thanksgiving, I went "home" and stayed with my parents. They live in the house I spent the last decade of my childhood in. There were all the elements of home, but I came to the realization while there that my dad is emotionally abusive and narcissistic and was during my whole childhood. I don't think he's necessarily a bad person. I think he's the product of an emotionally and physically abusive home and he can't imagine anything different.
During the months leading up to going home, I felt very home sick and when I finally got there, I couldn't sleep. It was too emotionally painful to be there. I was in a type of culture shock. I was seeing the way I grew up through completely new eyes. Coming back to where I currently live felt more like home, but it's still not home. I suppose that I've resigned myself to always living with that longing.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and feelings on 'home', Kelly. I have been sorting through similar things in my own life lately. The call to past homes, trying to be present in my current home, wondering where my next home may/should be. It is uncomfortable, scary, lonely, and yet at times even hopeful to sit with. May we all find our homes and feel at home in life.