I always come back to being still.
“You need roots.”
“Your child needs routine.”
“Don’t you want a place to call home?”
Listen, as much as I’ve been able to shake outsider’s opinions and breakout of the “rat-race” I am constantly fighting with myself about ‘stillness.’
I don’t know why I feel like I should have a “place to call home” when no place that I have EVER lived, no matter how many personal touches I add, no matter how many family-friend nights I host, no matter how many times I sleep, cook, or clean in the place I live, has ever felt like home.
One of my favorite essays to assign my students is called a definition essay. In the eleventh grade, I had to write an essay defining “home” and I’m still stuck on the definition.
I could stick with “home is where the heart is” but even my heart won’t stay still.
Even though I don’t make resolutions, I’ve decided to have a mantra instead.
My mantra will be, “stillness is overrated.”
What does “home” mean to you?
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