A new friend recently asked how I define home. “Is home the place you were born? Where most of your people are? Where you can name most of the trees? Or birds? Or bugs? Or snakes? Or bears?”, they asked.
For me, home is wherever and whenever my heart sings for joy. It’s wherever and whenever I find connection, recognise beauty, and celebrate the mundane.
Home is love, peace, and joy so intertwined it’s hard to differentiate one from the other. It is the laughter of friends, the tears of loved ones, and the hugs that follow.
Home is wherever my dance with life is understood. It is whenever I’m in a state of flow, whenever I have an authentic conversation, whenever I stay true to giving and receiving love – regardless of where these happen.
Most times, home is just me. Being.