Home can be a feeling (sand between your toes), a song (‘Gorecki‘ by Lamb), the first thing you see in the morning (he’s asleep next to you) or the sound of wood against wood (those Balinese wind chimes). Home is in between places, traveling from one to another. The warmth of the sun on your skin. Hearing laughter of friends and loved ones. Waves crashing to shore. Writing. Piano keys. A hug.
We are always home. Whether we anchor down or roam about. Whether we are vagabonds or wrap ourselves in a villa. Like turtles and snails, we carry home with us, on our backs, in our heads. Truth is the compass that points us there. Between perfect and now.  There truly is no place like it.
What does home feel like to you?

