This piece of writing sits at the tail end of a black sketch book that I’ve filled with magazine clippings, drawings, images and words that inspire me. It is my ode to the sweet life, the life I have and the life I dream of living. It is beautiful. It holds my heart inside it. I often take it with me when I house sit and use it’s images like an Oracle, opening up to a spread that feel right for where I’m at. I gently secure the book open to that page and use it as an altar, perhaps adding a fresh bouquet of flowers or a candle and a small crystal or stone. I realize that it encapsulates my longing for a home of my own. A life of my own. Sovereign, grounded, earthy, creative, lavish, free and generous.
So as I sit here writing this I am sheltering in place with my parents, in the house I grew up in. It is a fine home, but it is not my own. I feel my longing even more…and remembering these words gives my heart wings again. She says to me ‘your beloved home is close…do not give up hope…you are closer than you know…can’t you smell it?!…taste it?! Be still sweet one and let these words wash over you. Surrender and trust this life and leave your need to understand at the door.
…And after all this time and no time at all, her home, her blessed sacred beautiful home found her! And what a surprise it was, not because she wasn’t expecting it, or dreaming upon it, or conjuring its presence as often as she was inspired, but because it had been so long in her imagination that when she didn’t find it there it startled her.
Had it lost its position, its importance?
Yes and no.
The home had simply taken its cue from stage left and slid out, almost unnoticed onto the stage of her life. There is was!…(*) the graceful solid door, the spiral keyhole for which she already had the key. No real estate agents, no endless papers to sign, it simply crept up and surprised her! Such an unusual joy for a home. And this is no ordinary home…for a home created in such a way is destined to find its handler, its lover, its trusted companion. It is a matter of the heart, and matter delights in and bows humbly to love’s truths. So here I am, the She that got surprised….sitting joyfully with a grin and hot tea in hand, outside in the sunny garden of my dearest new friend HOME.
_ Jani Gillette