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"Home is where the heart is..."

"Home isn't a place, it's a feeling..."

"We carry our home within us, to enable us to fly..." John Cage

For the last few weeks, I've been pondering the notion of "home" and reflecting on the many moves I've made (most with the family in tow) over the last 16 years. Now that the dust has kinda settled on this move and we are finding a bit of a routine, the longing for "home" has hit me straight in the heart.

I remember when I moved to London at the ripe old age of 22, without knowing a single soul, the same thing happened. A few months in and BOOM - hits you like a freight train.

I can't really put my finger on it but I feel a deep longing to wake up in my own "home", take a wander down to Clifton Beach with the Winter air in my lungs and the hound at my side. I've had some moments of "what the F*&K are we doing here?" which I know is normal and will absolutely pass.

It's funny, we only moved to Tassie three years ago but I've said it multiple times...there is something so very magical about that place. It gets under your skin. All these feelings have got me wondering about what "home" actually means. I guess it's different for everyone and no doubt a combination of many different factors.

Anyhoo, one day at a time and all that. I recognise how very fortunate we are to be having this experience but for today, I'm going to sit down and have a cuppa with the way I'm feeling, acknowledge it and then walk it all out the back door. It's easy to avoid the uncomfortable feelings but in my experience avoidance of this stuff only creates a bigger problem later on. feel it within every inch of my body, acknowledge it and let it move on by.

The might Rose and Console are getting a thorough work out, massaged over the heart xx