Home,

Where is home?

There was a time that home was a place to keep my routine with the kids.

Even before that, home, sweet home was my parents home.

Even before that it was the womb of my mother.

But now, where is home?

The house I keep in Michigan with my husband?

The house I keep in Brazil while I am there working?

Neither of those places is my home anymore…

During my last flight back to my house at the Sanctuary dr , I suddenly realized I am at the stage where my home is the shell I carry around me, like a turtle!!! My home is wherever I am, and amazingly, the place I am in peace with myself! No conflicts. Wherever I am, that’s my home, sweet home.

During those last, nearly 8 years, flying back and forward, I got, many times, stuck into conflicts, as wherever I was, I was missing the other part!!. And of course, always longing for the missing one!

Suddenly however, I feel something not felt before - acomplished by the thoughts I am carrying with myself. The cosyness of them felt good as holding myself in a Nirvana state: neither seeking for the pleasure nor feeling it. Just being in!!

Many many things came to my mind once this state of mind has embraced me. However, the most stryking one is to get the meaning of - you are your memory, your thoughts, your build in story! And this means, at this feeling moment, being HOME!

Will I never feel again the uneasiness of being away from house/home? Of course I will. But those are feelings that are build in a material space, a material world where I have happy moments with my relationships - with my relatives, with my family, with my friends, with the ones I care for. Now I truly have experienced homesickness endlessly times This is a feeling that will always be present as it means you miss the ones you love, but they don't belong to you. An now I also, truly understand that love hurts!

It's paradoxical feeling this kind of 2 sides of the same coin - presence/absence of the loving one that I believe that’s why this eureka moment has happened!

Photographs always made part of my life. The walls in my house (s) have always some story to tell as they always have pictures, disposed in a way to tell a story. Now I feel so many pictures inside my mind that may be the disposal on the walls can from now onwards count another story…. or not! This I will leave for the future to tell me.