Coming Home

We all get homesick at times. We long for the comforts of our own space with our own things, somewhere we can truly be ourselves, somewhere we know we are loved. We may travel to far off lands and exotic islands but nothing compares to coming home.

In our lives it can feel like we are often far from the comforts that we associate with home. The idea of a safe place may be limited to a few hours away from the world of work, commitments and responsibilities. Even our own houses can fell like a prison sometimes. The pressures of family life and relationships may leave us feeling that we never get enough ‘me time’. But who’s time is it if it isn’t our own?

What if we could shift our thinking on this? What if we could feel at home wherever we are and whoever we are with? All of the time we are wanting to be somewhere other than where we actually are, we are saying to ourselves “this part of my life is not worth living. It doesn’t fit with what I think my life should be.”

Life happens regardless of what we think, feel and assume about it. Our bodies are breathing and our hearts are pumping all of the time that we are alive – right here, under our very noses. Wherever we go we take this body with us – a constant companion and a home for our sense of connectedness. We are always at home. It’s just a question of whether we are aware of it or not.

What is it about home that we love so much? Maybe a sense of not being judged, accepted for who we are? If we can we bring this same attitude to our own bodies and to our own experience of life, then maybe we can start to feel at home wherever we are.

The train on the track


It’s natural to not always want to be in the present moment. It can be uncomfortable, dull, unpleasant or it may not fit with our assumption of how our life should be right now. We all do this – it’s universal. This can actually be useful. It can allow us to daydream and think of the changes we want to make in our lives. However, if we find ourselves constantly wishing we were somewhere else or living someone else’s life, then we really not living at all.  Continue reading