Home is where the heart is. When I was little I used to dream about the house I grew up in all the time. I wish I could go there more often, once a year is just not enough. Strangely, I feel the essence of my home, sometimes, around me. Which helps me cope with the distance and, while trying to define what that essence is, it has revealed where some of my values come from.
Home feels like:
Sunshine and a Clear Sky,
The refreshing breeze, and the sound of tree leaves shaking on the wind,
As well as that ding-dang-ding-dong of my Grandmother's wall clock.
Home is that easy going Saturday morning feeling of worry-free state of mind,
It's doing, thinking, inventing, sharing, playing, exploring and starting.
Home is on the garden plants, on the stones, on the candles, on the dried medicinal herbs, on the books and notebooks and on the Olive and Almond trees.
Home smells like Rosemary, Lemon and Peppermint,
It tastes of nifea (yogurt with nuts, fruit and honey), of fresh tomatoes, lettuce and cucumbers, of homemade french fries, chicken soup, gazpacho and chocolate bar's baguettes.
Home sounds of laughter, it is loud and crowded but in a good way. It's singing till late in the garden as well as the quiet, calm sounds of silence.
Home is gathering on a stormy day to watch the lightning bolts,
to share secrets in a dark room lit only by candles,
Home is to dance under the rain, to contemplate the sunset and
to sit around a circle on every full moon night.
Home is where the heart is, so if you ever feel lost, close your eyes and focus on your heartbeat, on the strength of the earth beneath your feet. Focus on your breath, on the air around you. An then you will know. So tell me,
Where do you Belong?
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