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What rises in your body when you think of home? Is home synonymous with love and affection? Is home a place you long to return to?  

For some, home is terror, a place to flee with no desire to return or revisit. This is important to name and acknowledge because too many are aimlessly wandering, feeling insignificant—unseen, unknown. 

Often, when we think of home, we think only of an external place, out there, a fixed place—the place where we live and grow, create fond memories, establish familial bonds; the place we leave when we come of age and where we return when things are hard.  

Love is home.  

Home is both an external dwelling and an internal abode. Home is the place where we belong, our place of acceptance and welcome. There, in this shame and judgment-free embryonic cocoon of love, we practice unconditional acceptance; we learn to relate to ourselves and the world around us.  

And home is a soft place for the body to land, a safe place for the soul to fully disrobe. Home is the place where our failures don’t kill, our sins can’t crush, and even when we are at our worst, we’re safe. Home is a place where we are free to take our deepest, fullest, least encumbered breath.  

At home, there’s no need to guess whether we’re in or out, welcomed or not. Home always prepares a place with us in mind.   

How are you preparing a home of unconditional acceptance for yourself? How do you welcome your body, make room for your mind? In what ways are you engaging your soul with intentionality? How are you reclaiming the safety of home for yourself?  

“Home, is a place we all must find, child. It’s not just a place where you eat or sleep. Home is knowing. Knowing your mind, knowing your heart, knowing your courage. If we know ourselves, we’re always home, anywhere.” 

https://cac.org/daily-meditations/love-is-home/

Nem sempre encontro este lar. Nem sempre procuro este lar. E no entanto sei que este lar me espera. Sempre. Para começar, o meu próprio lar. Aquele que sou para mim, ainda que às vezes consiga ser lar e outras apenas casa. Mas o mais importante é o lar dos meus. Esse é o que verdadeiramente importa, esse é o verdadeiramente seguro, esse é, verdadeiramente, aquele que é refúgio. Muitas vezes de mim mesmo. Muitas vezes, apesar de mim.