The weekend is over and Monday is upon us. I've been reflecting on the meaning of home. What is home to you? On Saturday night I had my house-warming party, and I was overwhelmed by the love that existed in my house. My eyes are swelling up with tears as I reflect on it. My life is full of tremendous and powerful amounts of love and friendship. Most of my Greensboro friends were there and the ones that were not were certainly there in spirit. Getting to share my home, my space with the friends in my life was an experience second to none.
This house I've purchased feels like mine in every sense of the word. I knew the house would be mine from the moment I spotted it on listingbook. I have the sense that this house was built 75 years ago in preparation for me. I'm not telling a tale here that is really how it feels. Each piece of cedar siding nailed in with love was put in place for me. The porch in its perfect size was placed for me. The hard wood floors laid for me, but I still had a task, my task in nesting, my task in making this house my home was to fill it with love. We brought the love, the laughter and warmth on Saturday. Each room was filled with perfect caring friends, talking, laughing and being who they are.
As I sat in my living room yesterday reflecting on the party the night before I noticed that the energy of the house had shifted. I didn't even know that was possible. The house did feel even more mine. It felt warmer and cozier, it was thick with love. This isn't exaggeration of words, something changed, the rooms were brighter and happier and I couldn't have felt more loved.
I feel overwhelmed with Love and thanksgiving.
P.s. I have no photos of all of the people in my house because I was too in the moment to be bothered.
"My Buddha Bungalow is 81 years old and if I were 81 years old I'd probably need some big expensive repairs too. After all, they don't have yoga for houses."