“I just want to go home” is something I think almost every time I have a bad headache. The phrase was creepy when it first crossed my mind. I am at my home, which I love, but that’s not enough to satisfy my longing. My childhood home, where my parents still live, isn’t what I’m looking for either. So wanting to go home defaults to dying, the ultimate home — certainly not what I want.
I’ve written about going home before, calling it “a safe haven where agony is forbidden.” Burrowing under the covers is what I likened it to that day. But that’s not it either.
Setting aside my deeply held Western philosophies and health beliefs took a long time, but now that I’m considering Eastern and non-mainstream ideas I’m wide open. My current exploration is feng shui. Really, why not — it can only help.
Reading Wind and Water: Your Personal Feng Shui Journey by Carole Hyder last night, I stumbled on a passage about longing to go home. Hyder describes the search for home as a never-ending process “about finding safety and security, unquestioning love and compassion.”
Although my physical home is great, it’s problems loom large — the windows are so leaky that we might as well leave them open all winter, the basement is piled high with junk, the yard always needs weeding. . . . All that aside, wherever you live, dishes or bills to pay or [insert any chore you hate to do] looms.
Creating a place in the house that feels like home is a solution. Hyder recommends choosing a corner, chair or room, setting your favorite things in it and declaring it off-limits to anyone else in the house. Thus creating a special spot that you simply enjoy.
As soon as I read this, I knew I found home months ago without even noticing it. On the couch in front of the fire with a quilt on my feet. Even though we had an ugly break up with the person who made the quilt, it’s covered in quotes from people we love or have loved. I literally wrap myself in love when I need it most.
I’ve just realized that I have a second home too. I always feel like an obsessed 13-year-old when I talk about this, but I am truly soothed every time I hear Dave Matthews sing. It’s like his voice has seeped into my bones and I relax whenever I listen to it.
I’m currently listening to a (legally downloaded) show that I saw in England. I was entranced through the entire show; it was the best I’ve been to. My head is bad today, but I don’t notice it much right now. Perhaps it’s the pain-reducing effects of music that a recent study found. Maybe all that matters is that I’ve been transported to an amazing night.
Where’s your place, fixed or transient, to go home to?