Home, Day 155

Today I am pondering home. My house very much feels like home. I love my husband, our little furry family and our home. But home isn’t where someone lives. I know this quite well. During my teenage years I felt much more at home while I was staying with certain friends than I did being at my house. My house wasn’t comforting to me at all. Every year when I arrive in Guatemala I have this overwhelming sensation of being home. Every time I have the opportunity to go I jump at it. Being reunited with Chichi is beyond comforting. It just feels right being there. I feel a similar connection to the Cornerstone farm. My sister and I drive 6 hours to get there every year. We roll into the dusty field filled with tents and, ahh… I can breathe. I feel free, at peace, safe, I feel like I’m home when I arrive there.

Thinking about it home must be a place filled with relationships; a place where incredibly special people reside; people that one’s heart loves and is drawn to. Home must be a place where one feels alive; a place where one can be who they are, unfettered, unchained, unburdened. I’m incredibly fortunate to have found three very special places that I can call home. But at the same time it’s easy to get home sick. Often times I long so adamantly to return to Guatemala, to smell the ashy aroma everywhere I go, to feel the dust on my skin, to hear the Guatemala Spanish being spoken all around me. Sometimes I wish I were at Cornerstone with music of all different genres blaring in the background, sun beating down upon me always, warmth and people, people everywhere who in at least a little way feel the same way about life as I do (or at least about music).

As for right now, this very moment I am home. I am me. I am at peace. I have loved ones surrounding me. I am confident and comfortable and happy to be… home.