Home is where the heart is.

 

Home has been and always will be, where my heart is.

As a doe-eyed, cherub-haired child, I was accustomed to moving around; countries, homes, schools and friends and this continued into my teens and twenties. Now in my thirties this continues to be expressed not only based on my home location, but my work, passions and anything I ever take on. If my heart doesn’t sing and dance, I begin to feel caged and miserable. I begin to die a slow death.

It seems the same for most, but I have met people who live only with their heads, their heart songs condemned to lifelong comas. Unaware of their pulsating existence or smirking at the thought of their hearts having a voice. When they begin to feel restless and lost and they can’t understand why, do they know there is a beat missing? A deep, bass drum beat, so deep it’s just like the spinning of our world; can you feel yourself spinning with the world? Were you aware of it until a scientist theoretically broke it down?

I’ve also met those who know full well about their heart’s needs but only live with their guilt. The guilt of betrayal. Cheating on their minds with their hearts and their hearts with their minds; a perpetual battle of the self. They are unable to make certain decisions and the decisions they do make are never settled. The guilt bug eats away at them from the inside out. I’ve been there in the tragic moments when I haven’t been listening.

Mostly, I move. Call me restless, call me intense, call me committed, or call me a wandering gipsy.

I have sometimes envied those who grew up on the same streets and towns all their lives, and who grew to know groups of people that they’ve known for life; their crews, families, people or tribes. People that found one thing that they wanted to do, and chose a job for life. Their hearts seem settled. Yet I realise I have been accepted into many a tribe in many a place. I have grown to recognise the transitory nature of life, and I have no need for endless attachments to things and people. I cannot abide hoarding and unnecessary clutter.

I have felt the sensation early on of being torn from my growing roots to move country or town, to make new friends from school to school and to adapt to new areas. I’ve moved from topic to topic, and from job to job. The interesting thing is that when I am in something, I am ALL in, I just know that it’s OK to move on if my heart stops it’s singing and dancing.

I am someone who will move for love, distance is of no consequence. It helps that I see the world, no, the universe as nothing but moving inter-connected energy. I know that wherever I am ties are built and then severed, but love is a constant.

I have studied farther than some would say I need to, I am the one that travels farther to see friends who have moved away and settled.

Do I settle?

My version of settling is to learn acceptance. As I move in all aspects of my life I find my heart time and time again and listen to its desires, I sometimes shun it in fear and find myself getting ‘stuck’ but I eventually listen to it and accept its decisions. I settle with its needs and go with its beat, steadying it.

I settle with everyone I encounter for that moment I am with them, so I can see their hearts and dance with them. I settle with my decisions. I settle with being the carrier of love and spreading it around like sun rays wherever I may wander.

If home is where my heart is, I bring home with me wherever I go

'At this time of the great' by Pixshark.com.

‘At this time of the great’ by Pixshark.com.

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