Home

Home.

A place of stillness, where there is no need to earn or yearn or fight or prove,

The only requirement is to just be.

You may be surrounded by love, by activity and joy and people with hearts open.

Connection, laughter and happiness around,

But you can just be.

Nothing expected, nothing asked, nothing placed on you to carry,

You can just be.

Home has changed for me.

It used to be the white walls of our home on the hill, where the doors were always open,

And our friends would just walk in.

A place filled with people, friendship and laughter.

But that changed when my parents divorced.

Home shifted, it was in different pieces.

I started feeling home in people, not places.

I felt at home on Christmas Eve in a candlit church service,

Surrounded by family friends, loved ones and celebration.

Connection, love, community.

Home changed.

Horizons broadened, I left home, new adventures in new places.

Home became the friends I could be myself with.

The friends who saw me, got me, loved me, celebrated me as I was.

I made my home in the presence of my people.

Connection filled me up and I invested in those I could just be me around.

No pretences, no censorship, no need to put on a face.

Home became smaller.

Less friends understood me, less people saw all of me, less people had space to hold my heart.

Home shifted.

I found love with my now husband and the safety, calm and peace I felt with him was a new sense of home.

Less busy, less scattered, less frantic, more specific, more grounded and full.

In that safe place of his heart, I knew I was held.

Was I home?

Of that I wasn’t sure, but I had found something good.

Friendships changed, grew and shifted.

I moved cities. Once, twice, three times.

At one point, home was the rush of the surf beaches, with endless joyful waves rushing to meet the shoreline. Sandy pathways, green vegetation, rocky outcrops, and beautiful, deep, wide ocean under expansive blue skies.

Then I came home to my original hometown.

Usually, a visit back here was the best – full of catchups with loved ones making up for lost time, making new memories and delighting in being back.

Coming back to settle in, felt different.

People were in different places, different stages, I didn’t feel I quite fit.

It was okay, part of the process, part of the journey, part of finding my feet.

No longer defined by one community, one group of friendships or one house on the hill.

The people who knew me, truly knew me, were scattered across the country now.

Not in one place.

They held some feeling of home for me.

They helped me recognise and know myself, but they were not home.

I looked inward because I had to. So many questions, what would life look like going forward?

What did I want, what did I desire, what did I live for?

What would define me, how would I share me, what would I expect and ask for,

And what would I bring?

Where would I be just me?

Where would I be still and breathe?

With nothing to prove, nothing to earn, nothing to fight, wage or show?

Where was I okay, whole and at home?

Deep breaths.

Uncomfortable long-held positions on a yoga matt in class.

Big deep conversations talking to my partner about our future and dreams.

Catchups with friends, sometimes in sync and sometimes not.

Moments with family, sometimes beautiful sometimes not.

Connection with nieces and nephews sparking joy and happiness, a reminder of the precious gift of life and a chance to see the world with wonder again.

Journalling, getting honest with oneself.

Listening to one’s needs and starting to show up for oneself.

Putting less pressure on myself to prove or earn or fight,

There was no longer energy to perform or perfect,

Rest was needed

After so much fight or flight.

And so, after years of yearning,

For home and the feelings that come with it,

I found myself going inwards and realising I’d made home outside of myself.

I’d made it a destination; I’d made it an ideal

I’d searched and yearned and struggled and fought

With this idea that everything must align, all the people must come to hold you, everything must work smoothly,

For home to be stable and strong and formed.

But home is where you are.

Home is your beating heart and that spirit within.

The you that exists when all is silent and calm.

When there’s no pressure, no requirements, no expectations or demands.

When you exhale and expand and take up space, right where you are.

When you feel the ground beneath your feet, the air around you and a sense of release from other’s expectations, judgements, or requests.

You can breathe deeply and fully, existing without apology.

Who are you there?

There, you are home.

You, are your home.

And you must lay the foundations.

If you rush and travel and search all afar,

You’ll have a beautiful journey, but you’ll still be left wandering

Wondering what is missing, what is untouched, what have you lost?

And perhaps it is that spark of connection to self.

Those moments of looking within, asking what do I need? What do I love?

Owning who you are and what you want and all the colours that make you, you.

You are big and bold and glorious,

You do not need to find a home.

You do not need to find one people where you fit.

You are the space, you are the place, you are the soul not needing permission

To bring all of you.

In your vessel you can lean in and lean back, embracing all of you.

And in doing so,

You give others permission to feel they’re also home.

To know thyself, sets you and others free.

They see you’ve made home in who you are,

Delighting in your truth and newfound freedom.

And slowly, slowly through being authentic, beautiful you

You give others permission to do the same

And you feel connected. You feel seen. You feel celebrated and loved.

To build home in yourself requires some work.

Not everyone will get you, not everyone will understand.

And that’s okay.

Once you feel a stable connection to self, you have to let people in.

Let the walls down.

Let love in.

Let go of where you are not welcomed.

Stay connected to yourself and your home will grow.

What starts within, spreads outside of you, becoming greater.

When you look within, prepared to face your demons, asking for what you need,

You gain clarity, soften in how you view yourself and you show up for you.

Before you know it, you feel better, you breathe easier, you feel lighter and in your own skin.

You let go of whatever you were carrying, and you are more open to the world around you.

You know what matters to you, and you make space for it.

You begin to find deeper connection,

You have catchups with friends and don’t require anything of them.

They have nothing to be, nothing to prove, nothing to earn or fight for,

They can just be them.

And they delight in this recognition of their own presence,

And so, you give the gift of letting people be too.

All around, your world starts to slowly transform.

A homecoming to self,

Is an invitation to others

To receive your true self and to be their own.

And before you know it,

Your home is growing.

It is extending and you feel closer to those around you.

You can see their own homes and while there is separateness, it is okay.

The village grows one home, by one home, by one home.

And you realise this is what you needed to learn,

How to come home to yourself,

Before you could ever call a physical dwelling home.

Before you could ever raise a family.

Before you could ever call a loved one home.

All of these things require a solid relationship to self, to know what is important to you, what you are willing and desire to share of you, what sort of life you want to build.

Otherwise, we look outside of ourselves, we fill our homes with beautiful things and beautiful gardens and front porch décor,

But if not connected to who we are

It feels empty.

Others feel empty.

There’s an unspoken silence that is not life-breathed.

Connection to self and delight in your physical home, one that expresses who you are, which breathes presence and life and beauty in to all who visit it, is a gift.

A gift to yourself and an invitation to others.

A restorative safehaven and a comforting balm.

Hugs with your husband on the couch late at night.

Cuddles with your dog snoozing happily in the arvo sun.

Cups of tea with a friend or bubbly too.

The moments, the memories, the shared times with family and friends.

Deepened and coloured and made imperfectly wholesome,

Because nothing is required, nothing need be earnt or fought for.

They can come and just be.

As you have made home in yourself.

You listen to, connect with, show up for and make time for you.

With a ripple effect that goes far, wide and beyond yourself.

To be a home where you feel seen and okay and enough.

Where you take time to listen to the critical voices or disapproval and step back.

Where you throw off what is not yours to carry and refine what is yours to wrestle with.

When you take ownership of your challenges and through forward motion better yourself.

Where you dare to question what you want, where you lay down what matters to you and when you honour those desires within, having compassion for your perfectly imperfect journey.

You let your husband truly in to your heart.

Because you know yourself. You know how to not put everything on him. Sure, you can lean on him, and he’s got you too, but you’re putting in the work to know who you are, to be comfortable in your own skin, to ask for what matters to you, to make your relationship strong.

One where he too, feels safe. Where he can connect with the quiet whispers of his own heart. Where he can come out of his shell and dare to look at his dreams, to face his fears, to pivot however he needs to.

Home is not a house.

It is not one person. It is not many people.

It is not the places that fill you up. The ocean in its wrath or glory. The old church where you once felt surrounded by nurture and support. Or the family dinner table filled with love and laughter.

Don’t misunderstand. Those places and people are precious.

But what makes them rich, what makes them meaningful,

Is having made home in yourself first.

Going in. Breathing deep. Finding calm. Being still.

Not letting the pace of this life get in the way and steal your time, your chance, your deserving heartbeat.

Take time to meet yourself.

Listen, ask, question, enjoy.

Make home in you so that all else in your life branches out of this firm and sturdy oak tree growing from within.

You are your own home.

Live well. Make it beautiful. Let it be yours.

Don’t make home something for someone else.

Don’t lose sight of who you are.

Start with you and let all else grow from there.

Because you are magnificent, you are glorious

And your colours of home,

Are so imperfectly, you.

Nothing expected, nothing asked, nothing placed on you to carry,

Free to be, free to breathe

In all that you are.

Home.