I think what constitutes home is different for different people. For some it is an oasis, some a roving caravan, others a portal, and others a network connecting multiple points. And of course, for many, home is a traditional-type place or person.
The idea of a constellation appeals to me. It’s a network connecting multiple points. Not everyone can see it, so it holds a kind of magic. It points in a direction. And it is always there, even if sometimes you can’t see it.
Even more, I think of creating a home as making a parachute. Like there’s this huge expanse of cloth. And whenever I find something—a concept, an idea, a person, a place—that resonates, I put a stitch in it. The location of each stitch is a personal decision made under careful consideration that does not have to justified, based solely on the resonance I feel within me.
The actual stitch is placed mindfully and always with love. In my mind I see the fabric and feel myself holding the needle and pulling the thread, my love wound in every turn. This way the strength and security go both ways. The people, places, and ideas provide me with safety and stability while I imbue each with love and resiliency.
A long strong rope connects all the spots where I put a stitch. I can hold the rope and I can leap. The fabric becomes a parachute, and I am always safe.
Whatever your image of home, home is something created, together. A home isn’t found. Imagine a physical home. Though someone can find a house, it is the humans who create the home within the house. A shared home is formed together through feelings and acts of love and care, even including conflicts and repairs made by the people within it.