Home is where the heart is

Whenever I think of the phrase ‘home is where the heart is’, I see a handstitched needlepoint in a wooden frame hanging on a wall in my grandmother’s house. The word ‘home’, almost like a beating heart, yearningly calling us all in for some of her warm, soft love.

Perhaps,  this is what Maya Angelou meant when she declared that, “the ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”  To not be questioned is a wonderful sentiment, although, I am not sure I could be safe from questioning in my grandmother’s house. My goodness, it was a hub for questioning. Where was I going? Why was I going? But most importantly, am I really going to go looking like that? My grandmother wasn’t afraid to tell you what she thought or express her displeasure.

Yet, the smell of freshly baked cinnamon buns or the gentle motion of a rocking chair ignites a warmth in my heart. Immediately, I get a felt sensation of a deep love that bound the part of her that oozed ease and nurturing to that part of me that is free from fear. These sensory triggers kindle in me a knowing of home.

That knowing of home is not in any one place. It is not in my grandmother’s house, hanging on a wall. It is within me. And I am reminded of this home whenever some bodily experience guides me back. It could be in a deep northern wood, through the smell of sun soaked pine, or the feeling of plush carpet through my toes, the warmth of a hot water bottle resting on my chest, the feeling of my beloved’s feet intertwined in mine as we say goodnight.

If Maya Angelou got it half way right for me, Thich Nhat Hanh, the Zen Buddhist master, really nails it. He explains that “a true home is a place where you feel comfortable and at ease. You don’t want to go anywhere else anymore”. He explains it does not belong to time or space. Rather, it’s in each moment, with each step. It is the sense of effortlessness and comfort that comes with a feeling of safety. It is not in one location vs the other, home does not arrive with a person or reside within four walls. It is that part of us where peace and grace is bound with love.

So if it’s not a destination, how do we know we have arrived?

Well, we feel into home. It may be a warmth in the chest or our heart centre, a dropped shoulder, a gentle smile on our face, or even a sigh released. Our feelings of safety and connection are biological and can actually be quite familiar. Some might say, they are our natural state. What’s better is that they are available to us in every moment of the day. Home, in its essence, is a somatic experience. It relates to the body.  

This feeling of home is stored in our bodies and our bodies are always present. So, if we can find a way to connect our mind into our body, we will be able to access home easier. Maybe like me, it’s the trigger of the scent of a cinnamon bun, or the warmth of sunshine on your face. Or perhaps, it is the sound of the theme song of your favourite TV show. The one you watch to relax, to be at ease. Or, it could be the smell of a library. It’s there, if we look. We don’t need to go anywhere different, we just need to know how to access it.

Using the breath to arrive home

One tool that can help connect us to our body and to a felt sense of  home is the breath. For some, this comes easier than for others. Our relationship with the body can be a complicated one and it can be a scary place to be. However, it is also a reliable connection to presence. And if we’re brave enough, we can cultivate a beautiful, nurturing relationship with the body. It’s kind of like my relationship with my grandmother in that I never knew what she was going to say or if I was going to like it, but I knew there was a part of her that worked so very hard for my flourishing. Our bodies are the same.

If you would like to try a breath practice with a reflection on how you might access that felt sense of home, why not give it a try?

CLICK below for the audio practice and teaching from the Sanctuary’s Tuesday morning sessions I host.

I was questioned all of the time by my grandmother, but I knew that I was safe when I was in her home. It was a place where my heart could rest.

-Jane