How a nomad finds home

I thought home was where my heart was and therefore right here where I am all the time.  At the time that was true. (The alone version of home is awesome but having a variety of homes is something that the nomad knows is one key to a good life).

In reality (the right now), home is where banana chips, chocolate, pretzels and wine can be dinner…although cycles of mutual commitment to no junk in the house are frequent. Dancing, singing, creating music, yoga and writing breaks are fluid. If you make crepes or crackers or fruit leather you won’t have to eat it all by yourself. Chocolate disappears fast. Mumbling and humming to oneself is fully allowed, as is whistling. Saying anything or nothing at all is ok. Interruptions such as the telephone or text messages and even facebook are acceptable almost at any time, in addition to non-media interruptions such as taking a shower or jotting something down. That said, it can also be a sanctuary from everything, where hiding out is possible and one must not pick up a ringing phone, and it isn’t rude to do so (or not do so). Explanations for any actions or inactions need not be provided–sharing happens naturally, calmly, eventually. Intense heart-to-hearts and eye-to-eyes are encouraged and happen regularly…tho mutuality, respect, and balance are of utmost importance. There is no such thing as an end or beginning to any conversation…it’s a continuous weaving process of laugh talk touch space (pause, part, pray). Safety is key and that means you can take a deep breath, close your eyes, and dream at any time.

It works better when this is all based on a visceral connection of me, you, us…and while questioning and wondering about the connection (why why why) provides a juicy cerebral exercise that is fun at times, simply accepting (loving) usually creates more flow and harmony.

Home can be found in unexpected places and with people you’ve known for a while or for a couple moments…genetic links or mind or emotional links…could be with people you thought you’d never have the honour to meet, until you’re introduced to them randomly by a friend you hardly know (but have so much in common with) or give them the time of day just because you were having an awesome or off day (and you’re so glad you did, and it reminds you to keep doing it…).

searching for home

Advertisements

One response to “How a nomad finds home

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s