Home

Home is where you find your heart the happiest. Sometimes it's a place, but mostly, it's a feeling.
I have many homes. I am so happy when I am taking care of my family in our house. But, I am equally happy when I have a chance to visit our little spot on the lake in Minnesota. When we trek to Michigan to see my family or Florida or Texas to see loved ones, it's all the same. Even a hotel room can feel like home when it's the place you use as the starting point for visiting with friends and family.
I've never really felt like an owner of property; rather I feel as though I'm the custodian. No matter how much we may wish it, we cannot literally 'own' the earth. We can receive title that indicates we are allowed to use a space, but once we no longer breathe, the title and point, are moot. Like many ancient tribes realized, we are the guardians...responsible to nature to provide the care for our space as long as we occupy it. Perhaps that is one reason I feel closer to the land when I'm in Minnesota or Michigan. It seems that there, the spirits still exist. In the fullest, most succulent manifestation of life, it feels like home when I stand there.
The same feeling holds true wherever I garden...if I plant seeds and harvest fruit after a season of caring for this life, I feel like home. While I cut and store the fruit for the coming winter, I feel like home. When I share that fruit with those I care about, it feels like home; and home...feels like love.