Back to…home

I’ve decided “home” is a relative thing. (no pun intended)

Before the holidays, Jackie and I were excited to pack our bags and jump on a plane “home” for Christmas.   Katie was thrilled to be leaving school and heading “home” for break.   Jeff was grinding away in the office anxious to fly “home” at the end of the work week.

We walk into 42 Shore Road and we are “home”.  Or are we?

After Christmas cheer had evaporated and holiday trips had terminated, “home” felt very empty.   We have no scheduled life there any more.  There are no activities to drive to, no committee meetings to run to, no commitments to tend to.  It is a weird limbo that is at once familiar and uncomfortable.

When we dropped Katie off at school, she looked around her room and happily sighed, “It is so good to be home.”

Jackie sat around our house for the last two days of break, chomping at the bit to see her friends in London.  She kept asking me with urgency, “When are we going home?”

Back in London, I unpacked my bags and felt the relief wash over me that comes from returning home.

We all know the saying, Home is where the heart is.  Like anything in life, you have to put your heart in it to give it any value.

Yet to be more accurate, I would add that home is where the energy is.  It is where you feel intrinsically connected, inspired, and engaged.

Home is anywhere you come to life, where your inner circuits can gently hum.

 

 

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