“Home is where the heart is.” This is true if one means to say that one’s heart resides with loved ones. Though things can get a bit complicated when one considers that most people love many individuals, so how many homes does a person really have? Feel free to ignore my rhetorical ponderings, for this post is about something totally different. It is about all the traveling I’ve done over the last 16 years and how they’ve made me miss having a place that I can really call home.
I’ve relocated—short and long term—more than 20 times in 16 years. I left my beloved woods to go to the city, moved out of my island to come to the
since then I’ve been all over for school, work, love… One might think that in
16 years I would have found a place I can look back to and say “That’s home,
that’s where my heart is.” Well, I’m not sure I do. I do love many people:
family, dear friends, a lover… I know that any of their houses could be a
temporary home, but I don’t know if they could be my home. US
I believe that before a place can become my home it needs to have me all over. My energy needs to trickle out of the walls, and in a more practical note, I prefer for the place to have been cleansed by me. I like to walk around my home spiritually—and physically—naked. I can’t do that in a place I haven’t cleansed myself. And how many of us go around purifying our friends’ and loved ones’ houses—especially if they don’t share our beliefs? I’m not talking about a simple ritual, but one of those where one has to let the house sit from sun to moon in order to let the spirits, incenses, herbs… find some stability.
This is of particular importance, to me, when it comes to magic. Not very long ago, a friend asked me to cast a spell for him. I was all for it, then I went to his house and changed my mind—I didn’t have enough time to treat the house before I could work my magic. The place was not his home. It was empty of him, but overflowing with something I didn’t care for. I asked him about it and he told me “I just haven’t made it my home, even though I’ve been living here for a while.” I will cast the spell for him, but from a place where my witchy self can call home: a small grove close to a park around where I live.
I’m a 32-year-young Eclectic Solitary Witch who is starting to feel intense need for permanent soil. Have my body, mind and spirit gotten tired of wondering the world? Or maybe my heart is somewhere, I don’t know of, calling me home? Is your home where your heart is? Or do you get to a place, spread your magic, and make it your home?
Thanks for sticking around while I was gone my Wicked Darlings. I’ve returned to my house, but I feel like my heart is a few hundred miles north. I wonder if that’s home…