Coming Home

I’ve lived in this house for several years now. And ever since I moved in here with the hubster, I’ve been telling myself that in a few years we’re going to buy that huge piece of land somewhere, and THAT will be our true home, and we’ll settle in and live the life we want.

But just before I found out about my father’s heart attack, I was meditating on the little hill behind my house, and connected with the spirit of the land I live on. And I could feel the sorrow of a place that no one calls home, a place that is asked to produce food and medicine but is not given love or commitment in exchange for what is asked of it. And I became aware, too, of how I was limiting myself, always thinking of my home as a stepping stone to my real life. Always sitting on the surface, because “this isn’t my real home”, and so never putting down roots. No wonder I struggled so hard to be grounded.

I decided, then, that I would allow myself to love this place. I would stop thinking of moving on, I would put down roots, and finally, for the first time ever, be home.

Peony leaves changing color

The hubster and I talked about our plans for more land, about how uncertain those plans were for us, and about how we don’t do many things we want because “we’ll only be here for a few years”. We didn’t really make any big decisions, other than to agree that we would be here now. Be present in our current reality, and let the future lie.

Ripe Hawthorn berries

Of course, there was immediate upheaval with my father’s hospitalization and death, a trip to Michigan to mourn with my family. But upon our return I felt home settle around me and it was so comforting, so GOOD.

A view walking up the road away from our house.

During this process a dear friend came to stay in her motor home on our property, and she and I have started taking walks up our little gravel road, just to the end and back, almost every day.

The view coming home.

We’ve picked berries at the edge of the woods and trespassed on an abandoned piece of property to visit with some Elderberry bushes.

Trees on the abandoned property–if you look close you can just see the blue elderberry bushes on the left.

I’m finally seeing what a beautiful place I live in. And it only took six years!

It’s so good to be home.

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5 thoughts on “Coming Home

  1. I am so sorry about the loss of your Father.
    Your story rings home to me too, My home was in St. Louis I knew I could live there forever. There was peace and contentment in the yard. I love every thing about it. When my hubby had bypass surgery in Jan 05 or 6. We had to sell every thing and move to this unfinished house. We were working on it for a vacation or retirement home. But as a forced retirement home. I only this year started to try to make it home. I also had to stop morning the loss of my old life and home. But now I have hope for a dream home again. We bought a stone house around the corner right out side of town with 5-7 acres. It has all the peace I want. But I have to wait till Aug 25, 09 to make sure the back taxes are not paid on this vacant home. Before it will be truly mine to do with as I please. But you opened my eyes to I need to love and respect this home too.
    As we may not get the place we bought at the back tax sale.
    Thank you.
    Big hug.
    Grammy

  2. Your home is so beautiful! I really relate to you on this topic. It seems I have often put off living NOW while looking forward to my “real life” somewhere off in the future. So much better to be in the present, eh? A lesson I have to relearn again and again… We’ve lived here 3 years now. I’ve spent a lot of time connecting with the land, but I still have boxes I haven’t unpacked and pictures I haven’t hung inside! I think it’s time to embrace the shelter now and make it truly home too, lol

  3. How wonderful that you have made peace with where you are. It looks very inviting to me! Lush trees and fall colors. Nice that you and your hubster were in harmony with the decision!

    Lovely pictures.

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