"Are you from here or are you visiting?" she questioned sitting down at a table across from us last night out for dinner. "No this is home for us," one of us replied.
I thought of this exchange as I ran this morning. I felt like Jim Carrey in the Truman Show when every single person I passed smiled and greeted me "Good Morning." It was a beautiful morning full of people walking, riding bikes, children laughing in their yards. The picture perfect small town.
I thought about home.
Daily working with homeless people... people literally without a home; it struck me how many people wander around "homeless" every day. Home being more than a building that provides a place to sleep.
There are many who do not have a safe haven to return to, a sanctuary of peace and love and acceptance. I am far more knowledgeable about this type of displacement that I really care to admit. It is saddening.
For a long time I aimed to have the perfect home when people would come to visit. I wanted my house to be perfectly clean and welcoming. I found it hard to be at home without jumping up to clean or fix something. It was hard to just relax. I wanted me to be perfect too.
Many of us work so hard in life to perform what is expected of us... at work, in families, in relationships; ending up confused as to who we have become. We end up creating home void of the holiness of a sanctuary.
It has taken me awhile to accept that when friends are coming to my home, they are not looking at my house. My home is me.
And now I am learning that even though I am covered with dusty scars of imperfections, they love me anyway. Even though I make mistakes daily, they love me anyway. Even when I disagree with them, they love me anyway.
So last night at dinner with Mike and Dee...while receiving texts of love from Cheryl, Maddie, and Judy...I knew I had found my sanctuary. Indeed I was home.