English: Beautiful Rockford home located on 5....

Inspiration lives wherever we may find it. My friend, Yotaki Beautywalk,  wrote a comment on my “Home Again” post that set me thinking, inspiring thoughts I feel a need to share.

She said, “I wish I had a home to go home to.”

Once when I was newly out of my marriage, living in a rental suite after living in jointly owned homes (four to be exact) for most of my 32 year marriage which I did up and we sold well. However, due to circumstances beyond my control which I will not address here, I left with almost nothing and have been living on almost nothing for the past couple of years. Don’t take this as self-pity, it is anything but. I do know how lucky I am.

To be living where I live in Canada, I am so lucky.

To be living with love of good friends and support from knowledgable, helpful sources.

To have my health.

To remain gracious when a long time friend asked me: “Don’t you miss the houses? You must miss the sense of being home and having a house of your own, surely.”

I hate when people call me Shirley but I love my aunt by that name. This friend is all too sure of my position because of her own money and possession tethered character that offers little beyond surface of value to relationships as in when I finally mustered the courage to tell her I was suicidal and she killed me with,”Now I don’t know what to say that you might commit suicide on me!”

Sorry to have interfered with her financially perfect and apparently impenetrable little orbit. No I am not. And our friendship of over two decades ended in that instant.

Everything is about herself and she defines herself by what she owns, has, wears, spends and shares. Which, when I look back on the years, is very little of any worthwhile value. Suffering from her classism European roots, she treats people according to their status or should I say according to her “assumptions/presumptions” of their status.

Another friend recently said, rather insensitively in my opinion,”Bet you didn’t expect to find yourself in this situation at this stage of life.” She is also well set with all of the symbols of status. I once asked the classism suffering friend, “Who would you be without the money?” She never did answer me though years passed, no answer to the question, ever. I wonder what either of those women would be asking themselves about status if life’s tables suddenly turned on them.

As a renter in a modest little one bedroom apartment, I have none. Status that is.  But I have something my status needy friends will never have because it is not for sale anywhere in the world. A sense of peace and home within that I carry with me as I make the best of my home wherever I may be in my life.

Other long time friends say “wherever you live, your place always feels the same, very welcoming, peaceful and like a retreat from the world, even if I only get a short visit.”

This sensation goes with me and whatever I have within because wherever I live winds up having the same effect on me and my friends. Even what some might consider a hovel of a suite is peaceful, quiet and lovely to me every time I think of coming home and whenever I am there.

This is something no structure can house. This is housed within us. Whether we are in a tent in a campground, in a friend’s spare room or on their sofa, whether we are in a house, in a suite or in a room, home is a feeling nobody can take away from us.

Even the most beautiful, palatial of homes is hellishly empty and painful if it is not a safe, loving place to retreat to. Or if the relationships within are not peaceful and loving. Suddenly the status of it all shrinks to mean absolutely nothing because we are all going to die anyway. Living in love and peace is what I have come to learn is of utmost value to my soul. If ever I should be aware of my own dying, I will know for sure I have not lived in vain.

My answer to my friend that day when she insisted, “But I mean, you must miss living in those homes you made so beautiful?” was simply:

“No. No, I do not miss them at all. I miss what I wanted to have, what I longed to have, what nearly killed me with wishing my life away. I know you can’t understand this and perhaps you never will but home is within me. I can make ANY place into a home. A home is a hollow walled structure without love and peace. I am home wherever I live and wherever I go.”

I am still in my very modest well-loved and peaceful rental and I am still “at home within.”

Yotaki Beautywalk, so are you, my dear friend. It shows in every word you write. xo

JAM 29Feb2012


  1. The chain is well-oiled and the derailleurs snick from so to so-and-so with a satisfying click. The rims are true. The lady rides with ease – and besides, she has her old, faithful, old-faithful standby in the garage, with shopping baskets fore and aft. Why worry? Whistle!

  2. Your words touch me deeply, so full of wisdom and love. It is my Gypsy roots that make me long to move on so often and then desire as you said the representation of what home is. I once wrote, “A house without wheels is not a home.”
    Perhaps one day I shall cross the border and try living in Canada. I want to plant a vegetable, a flower, to hike through the woods and be surprised by a waterfall and know I can return to again anytime not just while on vacation.
    The status seekers….I have no use for them. Home lives in the heart and thanks for inviting me in. Yotaki Beautywalk

    • My pleasure, Yotaki. We walk the earth but once and if we are attached to things and structures, my guess is it will prove a very hollow walk indeed. Thanks for making mine so joyfully soulful :)

    • Tagged again! Whoa. I am getting dizzy, being tagged from all sides. If I forget you did it, remind me, hopefully getting a better computer this weekend and this one is too slow to follow up on tags with. But thanks for thinking of me, Daphy :) Happy tagging, doll.

  3. How much do I love this post?!! Lots! My favourite thing to hear when friends visit is that my place feels like home. That means more than the size of my tv or how much artwork is on my walls. Great ideas here sweety!

  4. Synchronicity or what???. As you can see, I am only now reading this post of yours from 29th Feb. (I am terribly behind at the moment.) But what should I have posted at “The Book Of Guff” that same day but


    Home is that special feeling you carry around with you and are sometimes even able to experience.

    Now *THAT* is what I call weird!

  5. Pingback: Tooth Of The Day – allaboutlemon-All Around, In, And Out Of My Own Universe

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