This Place We Call Home.

Each day I long so much to see
The true teacher. And each time
At dusk when I open the cabin
Door and empty the teapot,
I think I know where he is:
West of us in the forest.

Or perhaps I am the one
Who is out in the night,
The forest sand wet under
My feet, moonlight shining
On the sides of the birch trees,
The sea far off gleaming.

And he is the one who is
At home. He sits in my chair
Calmly; he reads and prays
All night. He loves to feel
His own body around him;
He does not leave the house.

— “The One Who Is at Home” by Francisco Albánez

My darlings, each day we face a crossroads — at one edge, destiny and, at the other fear.

We hold ourselves in the stillness of this space, desperate to will our feet forward.

We are paralyzed by the intrusion of ‘what if’ –hopeful that heavens might part so that we may find our way through.

We pine for the energy we once knew to be there; we long for the place to call home.

Oh, but my darlings – ‘home’ has never once left us behind.

It’s right there, between the breaths — that split second teetering between outbreath and in.

Within which is the opportunity to begin again.

My darlings, through these past years you’ve grown to become my dearest friends — and so, on this day I am grateful for that crossroads that welcomed you into my home.

Namaste, my loves ~ from my humbled heart to yours. ❤️

About

Tara Lemieux is a mindful wanderer, and faithful stargazer. Although she often appears to be listening with great care, rest assured she is most certainly‘forever lost in thought. She is an ardent explorer and lover of finding things previously undiscovered or at the very least mostly not-uncovered.

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