There’s No Place Like Home
I've been homeless – living with family at the moment – since the split with my husband 8 months ago. There are several reasons why this was the ‘right' choice, though not the most comfortable and cushy choice for me. I had the means to live elsewhere, but I was in what I call ‘the ‘tweens,' that in-between state between your old self and your new self. It has been an extraordinary adventure.
For one thing I got over this idea of home as a ‘place' where I live. For as long as I can remember I have longed for HOME. My family life was pretty dysfunctional growing up. It has evolved, but back then it was pretty crazy. I dreamed of a place where love reigned and peace infused every space. I got married young, had children when I was a know-it-all twenty-one, got divorced, became a single parent, got married again and still ‘home' eluded me.
How ironic to have found home when I was feeling home-less. Materially, I was blessed to have family to come home to. My mother always welcomes me with open arms, no matter my tattered state. But this ‘home' did not have a physical location. It resided somewhere between my belly and my heart. It was an orientation that shifted as my world crumbled around me.
The gift of my homelesseness has been that I have found home where it has always been . . . inside me. In the deep recesses of my boundless being, the infinite grace of life nourishes me and the soul-quenching rivers of possibility beckon me.
I've done more in the last 8 months to bring my vision of conscious community and conscious business into being than I ever could have imagined. And . . . I've had my most financially successful months too, in a tiny room squeezed between a twin bed and a dresser. Who would have thought that being homeless would bring me home.
Where is home calling YOUR name?