Locating the place, person, state of mind, thing which we call home is so important. For me, home is all of those aspects combined. The actual building I'm presently in, where I currently live, is the home my family and I have been rooted in for 30 years. My mother is the living, loving entity who creates the enveloping sense of certainty that I am home. This is where I belong. My father, who has passed, is our helper on the other side and is never absent. This is where I always come back to when constant navigation of the trials of life have left my energies and will depleted. Home is where I am restored.
Home is where fear cannot be conceived. It's a state of mind which mirrors the love, calm and feelings of safety I feel in the home that is the physical space, where my mother and father's presence are always felt, though not always seen. Home feels like I've returned to the womb, a place of mind where time means nothing and I can take as much of it as I need in order to rebuild myself, should I need to.
Home was a place I would search for before, but when I'd found them in the real world and inner world, home then became the place which allowed me to search for the truth.
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