Home

I’ve always dreamt of home as a place

Where I can kick back, and take a deep, long breath and just be.

I’d curl up on a deep, cozy, couch, wrapping myself in a blanket, knit with time and love by hands that have wrinkles that tell the most mesmerizing stories.

I’d have a cup of coffee and a puzzle before me, 1000 pieces, because there’s no such thing as too many pieces

A little bit of rain, or even a little bit of snow, reminding me it’s good and well to slow down.

Some music in the background to fill my ears with melodies that sing my heart and harmonies that sing peace for the days when i forget.

A fireplace to keep me warm, blue, orange, and yellow flames flickering while their shadows dance along the hard brick fireplace to the beat of the music, a slow, steady, dance.

I’ve always dreamt of home as being a person.

The person with deep, dreamy eyes that stare right into my being.

A stare that makes me want the hide and strip bare simultaneously…

With hands that know every imperfection and crevasse of my body, and a minds eye that sees beneath the surface down into the garden of my heart, where lavender bushes and peonies and honey suckle reside.

They’d brush away the cobwebs of years past and inhale deeply upon the scent of my potential, just as mindful of the delicate nature of my garden as I am.

They’d leave goosebumps on my skin and morning dew on the flowers of my inner most being.

I’ve learned that home is a constant state.

I carry with me the scent of coffee and firewood, ever reminded that peace is always a choice that I get to make.

The puzzles I love represent every opportunity to see things differently and to sit with my fragmented parts long enough to recognize that each part has a place of belonging.

The dancing flames remain burning, reminding me that even when it hurts, I should never give up.

That blanket, oh I carry it daily, wrapped within the generations of love that fought for my existence so for the days that I grow tired I remind myself not to quit this beautiful, complicated, worthwhile life.

And those eyes. Those eyes that know me, whether they belong to a lover or the eyes of God Himself, I know full well that my heart can call those beautiful eyes home.

Behind those bright shiny pupils, I find consistency and kindness, I find patience and hope. I find the belonging my soul has always longed for, the belonging I was made for.

And I’m reminded everyday that this home is a place where I can sit back, take a deep breath and remember that all I need to do is just be.

Advertisements
Home

Miss Independent…Or Not?

This week I am exhausted. Not physically but mentally. I’ve been moving the chess pieces around in my life, hoping everything will turn out for the best when it’s not even something I can control. I like for everything to be planned out, consistent and not last minute. My week has been the exact opposite. Finances have run out. Emotionally riding a roller coaster and trying to plan a wedding.

Then my Aunt swoops in, saving the day. And the pressure is off just for a little while.

I’m used to doing, or at least trying to do everything by myself. I’m independent because I’ve seen peoples’ unstable reactions to my life events. Usually they want to hear, but then they freak out when you tell them what has happened. They back off, or they flip out in anger, or they give you examples of all the things they would do, “if” then back away if you don’t go with their suggestions. It scary, because these situations are so delicate for you. It’s your real life, but to them they can come and go as they please, like a summer breeze.

Independence and my own personal strength, of how much pain and heartache I can take have been my victory flag. I love testing my emotional strength. But not right now. I just want to be scooped up, and understood, nutured, and cared for. I’m not sure how to let that happen without letting someone in to do so.

My Aunt told me today that I have to make the decision to let God come in and save the day, to rescue me. I know that- in a far out distant, hands off sort of way. But I’ve never been brave enough to let it actually happen. Because strong people don’t need and or want rescuing. But I’ve just about had enough with pretending to be strong.

Miss Independent…Or Not?