At home in life
WHEN I WAS A CHILD I ALWAYS WONDERED WHEN I WOULD FEEL TRULY AT HOME IN MY LIFE.
HOW IT WOULD LOOK.
I just took in this scene from the table I’m working on.
And I realised this is it. I am at home. With me.
Here in this house with the snow on the fields outside.
A hearth to warm my heart and our lives.
My Women PowerTypes cards next to Abby Wambach’s ‘Wolfpack’, above my ‘lazy’ chair where I do my meditations.
The hand-carved wooden sitting table from Swiss, where my grandmother came from. It connects me with my ancestors.
All the green plants that give me oxygen to breathe freely.
I’m 50. And I do feel at home in my life. Finally.
So, don’t worry if it takes a bit longer. If I am able to experience it, it’s probably possible everyone can.
It is not the ‘how’. It’s not the outer circumstances. Well, some of it. But in fact it’s me.
It’s realising I don’t have to be anything else but me. That it’s okay to be simply happy with that.