Loved your essay. I just finished writing my memoir about all the houses I have lived in. It's called twenty-seven houses and I wrote it for my kids and grandkids. When I thought about the difference between a house and a home I realized I had lived in many houses but few "homes." My real "home" came with my second husband because I knew I belonged there and there was so much love in my life.
Thank you Mesa for sharing this essay ❤️ I loved every words of it. To me, Home is where and when I feel safe and loved. A lot of people say that it starts from within, but to me sometimes when I was completely lost it came from the outside. Actually sometimes the outside / inside perception of life puzzles me. I do think we are all walking poems and that there is a Force in the universe which wants the best for us. We just need to open our eyes and heart to the Beauty of Life, even more when the Darkness shows up! Sending you lots of love 💕
I grew up in a wild, chaotic environment. I left home at 17 for college. Then at 19, I moved in with a family member. For decades I’ve meditated on what home is, what feels warm. The dialogue over safe sanctuary is still with me. I’ve been unhoused and found magical humans who gave me shelter. Poetry is my home now. And it seems less important to put a pin in the map. Thank you for your gifts and words, Mesa. Love ya! 💛💫💛
Felicia Murrell acknowledges that our first homes are not always safe:
In the 1978 movie The Wiz, the iconic Diana Ross sings, “When I think of home, I think of a place where there’s love overflowing.” [1]
What rises in your body when you think of home? Is home synonymous with love and affection? Is home a place you long to return to?
For some, home is terror, a place to flee with no desire to return or revisit. This is important to name and acknowledge because too many are aimlessly wandering, feeling insignificant—unseen, unknown.
When home is not a place of comfort, and there is no sense of knowing or nurture, it leaves the body in flight-or-fight mode. We see this in Dorothy’s companions, the scarecrow and the cowardly lion. One runs to isolation, invisibility, and separation, choosing to hide. The other blusters to cover a lack of courage … with a body that remains on full alert, suspicious and defensive. Whether self-protecting or hiding, one thing is true: Neither posture offers the soul any type of rest. Neither is home.
Often, when we think of home, we think only of an external place, out there, a fixed place—the place where we live and grow, create fond memories, establish familial bonds; the place we leave when we come of age and where we return when things are hard.
The evolution of Dorothy’s journey on the yellow brick road expands home beyond the narrow confines of a fixed place to a vast inward sea. “I’ve learned,” she says, “that we must look inside our hearts to find a world full of love … like home.” [2]
For Murrell, home offers unconditional love.
Love is home.
Home is both an external dwelling and an internal abode. Home is the place where we belong, our place of acceptance and welcome. There, in this shame and judgment-free embryonic cocoon of love, we practice unconditional acceptance; we learn to relate to ourselves and the world around us.
And home is a soft place for the body to land, a safe place for the soul to fully disrobe. Home is the place where our failures don’t kill, our sins can’t crush, and even when we are at our worst, we’re safe. Home is a place where we are free to take our deepest, fullest, least encumbered breath.
At home, there’s no need to guess whether we’re in or out, welcomed or not. Home always prepares a place with us in mind.
How are you preparing a home of unconditional acceptance for yourself? How do you welcome your body, make room for your mind? In what ways are you engaging your soul with intentionality? How are you reclaiming the safety of home for yourself?
“Home,” says Glinda the Good, “is a place we all must find, child. It’s not just a place where you eat or sleep. Home is knowing. Knowing your mind, knowing your heart, knowing your courage. If we know ourselves, we’re always home, anywhere.” [3]
Mesa, i understand the difference between a house and a home. I also have two homes: one where i'm living in with my dad in Kerman, and one in Shiraz (my hometown). My home in Shiraz is where i feel free to enjoy my life, go to my fave places, and so on.
There's just one problem: i've been living in Kerman for more than a decade and can't throw away my life here.
Hi Negar! That must be tough to be in a space that while is a kind of home isn't the place where you feel the most free. I hope you can get back to the home that you're freest in someday.
Love the Hobbit hole! Your story reminded me of when my daughter turned 8. I’m not sure exactly what she wanted on her birthday but she was obviously very very disappointed. In the midst of her general rage, she yelled out, “I wanna go home!” We already were home. And I told her, “Honey, it ain’t gonna get any better than this!”
This was a great essay, Mesa! I was also raised in between houses, and for the longest time after leaving my childhood home(s), I felt restless being in one place. I've been intentionally nomadic my whole life (until very recently) and wonder what it is about that lifestyle that suits me. Because even in the midst of loving it, I craved a stable home. So much rich soil to till here! Thank you!
This is an amazing mindset to have—to not seek home from other people or places that may or may not work, but to just feel comfortable in your own existence and create your home wherever you are. Wonderful, wonderful piece here.
My mind immediately goes to, "home is where the heart is." Over the years I've redefined home for myself from the dictionary definition to my body as home. No matter I am—away from family & friends, traveling, away from every day comforts—I try to remind myself that my body is home. Thank you for the beautiful reminder ❤️🩹
Loved your essay. I just finished writing my memoir about all the houses I have lived in. It's called twenty-seven houses and I wrote it for my kids and grandkids. When I thought about the difference between a house and a home I realized I had lived in many houses but few "homes." My real "home" came with my second husband because I knew I belonged there and there was so much love in my life.
I love that! Congrats on finishing your memoir!! I'm so glad you found your real home 😍
Thank you Mesa for sharing this essay ❤️ I loved every words of it. To me, Home is where and when I feel safe and loved. A lot of people say that it starts from within, but to me sometimes when I was completely lost it came from the outside. Actually sometimes the outside / inside perception of life puzzles me. I do think we are all walking poems and that there is a Force in the universe which wants the best for us. We just need to open our eyes and heart to the Beauty of Life, even more when the Darkness shows up! Sending you lots of love 💕
Thank you, Lise ❤️🩹 Big love to you!
I love this one!
I'm so glad ❤️🩹
I grew up in a wild, chaotic environment. I left home at 17 for college. Then at 19, I moved in with a family member. For decades I’ve meditated on what home is, what feels warm. The dialogue over safe sanctuary is still with me. I’ve been unhoused and found magical humans who gave me shelter. Poetry is my home now. And it seems less important to put a pin in the map. Thank you for your gifts and words, Mesa. Love ya! 💛💫💛
I too lived in the wild chaos- I see you 🖤 Love you too!! So much!!
The power of your writing is in the being seen and seeing others in all their messy and beautiful be-ing! Thank you again! 🖤
This from today’s Richard Rohr Meditation:
Felicia Murrell acknowledges that our first homes are not always safe:
In the 1978 movie The Wiz, the iconic Diana Ross sings, “When I think of home, I think of a place where there’s love overflowing.” [1]
What rises in your body when you think of home? Is home synonymous with love and affection? Is home a place you long to return to?
For some, home is terror, a place to flee with no desire to return or revisit. This is important to name and acknowledge because too many are aimlessly wandering, feeling insignificant—unseen, unknown.
When home is not a place of comfort, and there is no sense of knowing or nurture, it leaves the body in flight-or-fight mode. We see this in Dorothy’s companions, the scarecrow and the cowardly lion. One runs to isolation, invisibility, and separation, choosing to hide. The other blusters to cover a lack of courage … with a body that remains on full alert, suspicious and defensive. Whether self-protecting or hiding, one thing is true: Neither posture offers the soul any type of rest. Neither is home.
Often, when we think of home, we think only of an external place, out there, a fixed place—the place where we live and grow, create fond memories, establish familial bonds; the place we leave when we come of age and where we return when things are hard.
The evolution of Dorothy’s journey on the yellow brick road expands home beyond the narrow confines of a fixed place to a vast inward sea. “I’ve learned,” she says, “that we must look inside our hearts to find a world full of love … like home.” [2]
For Murrell, home offers unconditional love.
Love is home.
Home is both an external dwelling and an internal abode. Home is the place where we belong, our place of acceptance and welcome. There, in this shame and judgment-free embryonic cocoon of love, we practice unconditional acceptance; we learn to relate to ourselves and the world around us.
And home is a soft place for the body to land, a safe place for the soul to fully disrobe. Home is the place where our failures don’t kill, our sins can’t crush, and even when we are at our worst, we’re safe. Home is a place where we are free to take our deepest, fullest, least encumbered breath.
At home, there’s no need to guess whether we’re in or out, welcomed or not. Home always prepares a place with us in mind.
How are you preparing a home of unconditional acceptance for yourself? How do you welcome your body, make room for your mind? In what ways are you engaging your soul with intentionality? How are you reclaiming the safety of home for yourself?
“Home,” says Glinda the Good, “is a place we all must find, child. It’s not just a place where you eat or sleep. Home is knowing. Knowing your mind, knowing your heart, knowing your courage. If we know ourselves, we’re always home, anywhere.” [3]
I especially needed this today. Thank you.
Of course. Take good care of you.
Mesa, i understand the difference between a house and a home. I also have two homes: one where i'm living in with my dad in Kerman, and one in Shiraz (my hometown). My home in Shiraz is where i feel free to enjoy my life, go to my fave places, and so on.
There's just one problem: i've been living in Kerman for more than a decade and can't throw away my life here.
Hi Negar! That must be tough to be in a space that while is a kind of home isn't the place where you feel the most free. I hope you can get back to the home that you're freest in someday.
Thanks, Mesa. I hope i can do this one day.
Love the Hobbit hole! Your story reminded me of when my daughter turned 8. I’m not sure exactly what she wanted on her birthday but she was obviously very very disappointed. In the midst of her general rage, she yelled out, “I wanna go home!” We already were home. And I told her, “Honey, it ain’t gonna get any better than this!”
Ha! Love that!
This was a great essay, Mesa! I was also raised in between houses, and for the longest time after leaving my childhood home(s), I felt restless being in one place. I've been intentionally nomadic my whole life (until very recently) and wonder what it is about that lifestyle that suits me. Because even in the midst of loving it, I craved a stable home. So much rich soil to till here! Thank you!
I remember constantly feeling like I was split in two and now I feel like I've left little pieces of me in a whole bunch of places ❤️🩹❤️🩹
Yes! This! Maybe we're like fire though, lighting candles everywhere we have been, never burning any less bright in the process.... 🔥
I love that idea!!! 🔥😍
“In my quest to find a stable home, I became homeless inside.”
This line is so powerful to me.
It reminded me of a poem I had written about my mama, and how we relish in “being truly home”, wherever that may be. Thank you from my ❤️🩹!
❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
This is an amazing mindset to have—to not seek home from other people or places that may or may not work, but to just feel comfortable in your own existence and create your home wherever you are. Wonderful, wonderful piece here.
Thank you ❤️🩹
I so enjoyed this. It got me thinking how conflicted I am with the concept of home. It feels like I’m still searching for my real home in some ways.
I'm so glad you enjoyed it! Sometimes the search feels never ending and then one day you feel like you don't have to anymore ❤️🩹
Wonderful read there. People want to be seen, to be heard, and to know that there's someone who's like them and feels the same way they feel.
Thank you! And yes, I wholeheartedly agree 😍😍
My mind immediately goes to, "home is where the heart is." Over the years I've redefined home for myself from the dictionary definition to my body as home. No matter I am—away from family & friends, traveling, away from every day comforts—I try to remind myself that my body is home. Thank you for the beautiful reminder ❤️🩹
Beautiful!
Thank you my friend 😍😍😍