I never in so many years would have thought I would consider what every indoctrinated self-help Christian book and teaching completely went against.
I did a unique kind of tarot card reading, although it’s formally called The Mother’s Wisdom Deck.
The cards are intuitively designed with mothers in mind, each one containing a divine spark of inspiration that can energize and heal them in more ways than one.
I laid out the harmonizing spread of the deck.
Something about the circular motion of where the cards needed to be spoke to me.
My first card: Mary, who reminded me to love unconditionally…including myself.
My second card: Star, who reminded me to fill my world with a cosmos-gazing wonder and take in the splendor that can be so easily abandoned in childhood.
My third card: Loss, who reminded me that I had a deep wound and, for some reason, I couldn’t quite put a finger on all the areas of loss, although I most certainly feel a sensation of missing-ness and emptiness in some aspects of my life.
My fourth card: Shell, who reminded me that I have a listening ear which is a gift to myself and to the world.
My fifth card: Turtle, who reminded me that I carry my home with me and that I’m home wherever I go and so choose to be.
That last one was hard.
I met a lady recently who posed an interesting counter argument to my claim to self-imposed homelessness.
Yes, I was technically homeless. I had no dwelling that of my choosing per se.
I could have been asked to leave from wherever I went within an instant.
Fortunately, I left by my own choice.
That’s still pretty damn homeless if you ask me.
That lady saw it quite differently, however, and she said I was more like a gypsy, a nomadic woman moving around and carrying her home on her back much like the turtle.
I have always been a free spirit so I guess her words shouldn’t have come at such a surprise.
Still no home, though.
Where can I unpack and never have to worry about packing up days later?
Where can I go for unperturbed solace and privacy?
I’m always searching for that place, but all at once it seems that I have found it somewhere in between my blog and my connections to all the wonderful people I have met on social media.
You can find yours too, somewhere inside of you, even if you’re not searching for it.
What do you consider to be your home? Where do you go–or stay away from–in order to discover it? Is it time, maybe, for some renovations?