redefining and recreating “home”

Posted on December 3, 2009

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“Something about your voice. Something about your eyes. I don’t feel so lost. I don’t have to hide.” (from the song “Eternity” by Lizz Wright). At a point of real turmoil in life, I’ve been struggling with redefining and recreating “home”. Somehow Lizz has hit upon something that resonates with me about “home”.

Maybe it is not so much something one seeks as something one gives.

Maybe it is not “place” as much as “space” that is intentionally created where it is needed… at just the right time and in just the right way creating acceptance, understanding, significance, and love unconditioned with expectations, obligations, and demands.

I know I’m a stranger in a strange land (it doesn’t get much stranger than earth, than humankind).

I know NOTHING is permanent.

So maybe that “home” of my childhood that seemed so permanent can no longer be a “place”. Maybe the “home” of my life now must become the “space” I create around me wherever I am, wherever I go, whenever I’m around people that need a “space” of acceptance, understanding, and signification.

A space where those that feel invisible will be seen.

A space where those that feel unheard will find a voice.

A space where those that feel insignificant will find significance.

A space where those that feel misunderstood will find understanding.

A space where those that feel unacceptable will find acceptance.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
St. Francis of Assissi
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We are all longing to go home
to some place we have never been
— a place, half-remembered, and half-envisioned
we can only catch glimpses of
from time to time.
Community.

Somewhere,
there are people to whom we can speak
without having the words catch in our throats.

Somewhere
a circle of hands will open to receive us,
eyes will light up as we enter,
voices will celebrate with us
whenever we come into our own power.

Community means
strength that joins our strength
to do the work that needs to be done.
Arms to hold us when we falter.
A circle of healing.
A circle of friends.

Someplace where
we can be free.

– Starhawk

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