Where do I live?
It's a rather simple question..and one that I've been pondering lately. It shouldn't really take all that much thought to answer...but that it's something about which I've definitely been thinking.
I live here in the United States of America. I live in a suburban town just west of a city that hugs the east coast. There are mountains to the north and west..and oceans to the east. There are tree lined streets..and picket fences..and backyards that have been carefully tended. There are children playing and dogs barking. There are parks and schools and a town hall and center. I'm lucky. Where I live - there's a beautiful and very picturesque little pond.
I live in a house that can be easily located by its street name and identifying address. I have a phone number..a zip code..an email address. Anyone can find me - if they look.
I live alongside my furniture..my pots and pans...my precious belongings..the 'things' I've collected and amassed. I live with my papers...my pens and my pencils..my library of read and un-read books. I live with my family - who I love more than life. With my husband..my children..my sweet girl-dog.
But - where do I LIVE?
Where I live..where I really live - cannot be defined. Where I live is somewhere inside. It has no identifying name..or street address. It can't possibly be located or - even - described.
It can't get lost. It can be found. It is sometimes a firey red..or a melancholy blue. It can be a bright orange..or a deep and pensive purple.
This place where I live - it talks to me. It walks with me. It sits right there beside me. It owns nothing. It carries all. It remembers..and yet - it forgives and forgets.
I live in my wildest imagination....and darkest dreams. I live in my quiet..and my endless chatter and noise. I live in my internal tumult..and my eternal peace. I live where I breathe....where I feel...where I can listen and hear the voice that is speaking. Softly.
Where do I live?
I live in that place..in that sacred space...in the one and only - where I come alive. In that one - that is always waiting...inviting..welcoming. That one to which I can return. Time after time..and over and over..and ever again.
I live in my body..my breath..my heart.
I live in that place...in that comfortable safe space - that is home.
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Cross-posted at Vision and Verb - where a group of like minded women from around the world share their passion for photography and the written word.