Home is a journey, not a location.

“Home is a journey; there is always more to see, more to realize, more to discover about who you are and what it means to be at home.” ~ Ari M Wolfe

I have been digesting this message I heard a little while ago during the last few weeks of my travels.

Over the past two weekends we have been hosted by people who’ve opened their homes to us, who let us into their world, who took the time from their busy lives to be with us, to share their favorite activities, their food, their passions.

There is so much generosity that’s been pouring my way from those encounters that at times I caught myself in hesitation to receive.

I have been trying to figure out what felt difficult in receiving.

There is a compulsion to reciprocate. To make sure I give as much as I receive. To somehow make it “even,” to not create any deficit for people who are giving to me.

Why? Would the perceived deficit mean that I owe them?

I remind myself that this concern comes from a distorted lens on relating, where people give from “should’s” and not from following their own inner impulse, wishes and desires.

That is the world where I used to live and those habits still haunt me sometimes.

Because if I trust that these generous hosts invite us because they want to, because there is something that they receive from their giving, then my job – aside from being a gracious guest – is to make sure I am fully open to receive their gift.

I notice that when I am open to receive, I feel warm and connect to gratitude. Gratitude expands me and gives me access to my own abundance, which then spills into other aspects of my life and onto anyone I come in contact with. Such a positive virus!

When I feel constricted from fear that I am taking too much, it is an opposite process. My thoughts change, I feel awkward in my body, I tense up, close up and am no longer able to be the gracious guest, the grateful recipient of the gift.

Time and time my hosts tell me: It is a pleasure to share what we love with people who appreciate it.

I know I am not unique in struggling to receive, which I find is a sign of a distortion, a wounded place.

Why is it difficult to receive?

Because I come from the world where people operated from “should’s”, where being taken care of came with conditions and expectations, and love came with threats that it will be withdrawn if I do not behave in a way that pleases the caregiver.

To trust that people are generous and kind – not because they have to be, but because they choose to be, because they want to be – still feels edgy and raw.

Ultimately, what I am talking about is ability to receive an offering free of strings, in safety of knowing that it is genuine. That I will not have to pay for it by betraying myself.

Yesterday being Father’s Day has added a layer of clarity to my musings on home and trust, love and capacity to receive.

As far as I know my father is still alive. But I am not sure, because he has cut all contact with me (and my sister and our children) ever since he separated from our mother roughly 15 years ago.

I have chased him over the years, trying to force a relationship that wasn’t offered. We have met a few times – which were sweet and bitter at the same time. In the last 4 years there has been no communication, because I have finally stopped chasing the love that is not given freely.

Mid-May I held a little ceremony, where I released my father from any obligation to me. I cried as I was saying good-bye to the idealized father figure I needed him to be. I finally accepted my father for who he is – just another messy, traumatized human with a distorted experience of love – and freed him. Freeing him I freed myself.

He does not owe me anything.

No one owes me anything.

Which means when someone offers me anything – it is a gift.

From this clearer seeing, I trust that whatever goodness comes my way – an open home, an offered meal, kind words – are genuine gifts bestowed upon me by life, channelled through people who come into my life, and I am safe to accept them.

I am learning to receive with open arms and open heart.

I am safe to feel gratitude and abundance, unarmed, knowing that I am safe and I am loved.

Learning to feel safe and loved in my life is a journey of reclaiming what is my birthright.

Learning to be at home in my life is a journey, not a destination.

And the more I travel, the more I interact with different people, the more I tell my stories and hear theirs – the more I discover who I am and what it means to be at home. At home in my body and in my life.

Thank you for being here to witness me as I find my way home.