We’ve been traveling. We’re home … and while there is no place like home … our return is bittersweet. “Home is where the heart is” some say. No doubt my heart is divided … my heart is where my family is … here, there, and over there as well.
There’s the mother at the doorway, and the children at the gate,
And the little parlor windows with the curtains white and straight.
There are shaggy asters blooming in the bed that lines the fence,
And the simplest of the blossoms seems of mighty consequence.
Oh, there isn’t any mansion underneath God’s starry dome
That can rest a weary pilgrim like the little place called home.
Men have sought for gold and silver; men have dreamed at night of fame;
In the heat of youth they’ve struggled for achievement’s honored name;
But the selfish crowns are tinsel, and their shining jewels paste,
And the wine of pomp and glory soon grows bitter to the taste.
For there’s never any laughter howsoever far you roam,
Like the laughter of the loved ones in the happiness of home.
~ Edgar Guest
I’ve been reading Thomas Moore’s The Re-Enchantment of Everyday Life. He writes, “The soul’s need for home has to do not only with shelter and a house, but with more subtle forms, like the feeling that one is living in the right place, being around people who offer a sense of belonging, doing work that is truly appropriate, feeling maternally protected and enlivened by the natural world, and belonging to a nation and a world community. These larger sources of home ask for our attention and commitment, but they also have gifts for the heart, and each one of them can contribute to the enchantment of everyday existence. “
“The experience of home is so deep-seated that when we find it in our own houses or in the homes of others, we may feel enchantment thick in the air…”
I am at home!
