Home Base

When we're children, home is often a place.

A house.

A bedroom.

The people waiting for us at the end of the day.

As I've gotten older, I've come to think about home differently.

I've started to wonder if home is less about where we live and more about how we relate to ourselves.

Life changes.

People come and go.

Careers shift.

Relationships evolve.

The one constant is that we keep waking up as ourselves.

For a long time, I thought feeling at home depended on what was happening around me.

Now I think it has more to do with what is happening within me.

Can I trust myself?

Can I be kind to myself?

Can I stay with myself when life feels uncertain?

The older I get, the less interested I am in finding perfect stability.

And the more interested I am in becoming a place I can return to.

A home base.

Not because life is always calm.

But because wherever I go, there I am.

Home, I've learned, is not only an external place.

It is also an internal relationship.