This post was originally published on June 30, 2020.
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I’ve really been struggling with what to write about for this month’s diary topic. I had planned to talk about a French phrase that we learned while in Paris. But it just doesn’t seem appropriate at this time.
There’s just such an overwhelming sense of displacement in our moment in history. We’ve all spent month after month in our homes, so you’d think we’d feel more settled. But that’s just not the case because everything else about our normal lives has been displaced.
The past few weeks that sense of displacement has crept into our history and our collective identity.
It doesn’t help matters when you’ve been physically displaced. My landlord sold the house and so I suddenly found myself losing my home. The loss of the space I worked so carefully and intentionally to make my own was palpable. Don’t be fooled, there’s a certain kind of grief in losing an extension of yourself.
We’ve all been doing our best with Zoom calls and FaceTime. And while those things are getting us through, they’re just not the same as the rhythm of regularly going out to meet with people. Or having the option to make plans with friends outside the confines of our four walls.
But, also, all the Zoom calls don’t make up for not being able to invite friends and community into our homes.
It’s kind of making me think about how the concept of home actually expands beyond the ambience that’s created by the furniture and pictures and wall colors of the rooms collected under your one roof. Beyond the four corners, home is about your broader community. It’s the daily routines you take for granted and the mundane chores you need to get done in order to stay nourished and maintained.
And if our individual homes are our place for respite and sanctuary and doling out extravagant amounts of love to those who enter through our doors, then, shouldn’t our broader communities experience the extension of those practices and principles? And how wonderful if they could feel the full extent of what we practice behind our doors.
I definitely think it’s something worthwhile to strive for. I know that’s what I try to do. I don’t always get it right because, well, I’m human. But, I suppose, it’s a way you can bring your sense of home and share it with everyone you meet.
Still, though, a question remains. How do you create a sense of home, or sanctuary, when you, yourself, are without a home?
I’m still figuring that out.
But here’s what I’m thinking and it goes back to home being our broader community. Each one of us can carry the sense of home out into the world with us. We can love the people we come into contact with by being kind and considerate. We can see people for more than what their outside looks like and really seek to see their soul. I find that smiling helps a lot. Of course, it’s a little bit trickier for recipients to see when our mouths are covered with masks!
So eye-smile at them. Eyes do a lot to welcome others in. And, ultimately, that’s what we open our doors to our homes to do.
