Breathe in the cool sweetness of early morning air, as I am quietly coaching myself back to center, back to the breath, and back to home. Filling the handmade artisan mug for maybe the 20th time this morning, from a fresh pot of rich black coffee, I take to outside into the softness of first light. Warm mug in hand, bare feet in cool grass, bedhead and bathrobe to the garden I go. The dew greets me like a welcome friend, gently moistening and protecting seedlings and tender hearts from the heat and unknown of the day ahead. I pause here. I open my eyes and really see the dew lacing the edges of leaves, smell the freshly tilled earth, feel my feet in the wet grass, and my heart a softly opening rosebud revealing it’s pungent sweet perfume.
The surprise of tears well in my eyes, I am yet to get used to the leaving. The coming and going of children growing and stretching their wings, leaning into dreams and living courageously helps me also to be faithful and courageous. After all, this is what we have all been working for. Independence, bravery, living big and full lives.
And it’s good.
It’s just new again. A new chapter, a new rhythm, a new family dynamic, one which will continue to ebb and flow for the next several years, maybe the rest of this precious lifetime. I am learning to soften in as I unfurl my hands and let go. I am learning to lean in, to count the moments, etch them on my heart to cherish and keep close when we are apart. I love this opportunity to be fully all in, to experience every single feeling, and live it big. The simple everyday moments are truly what make this life. Big hands reaching for small, only this time, mine are the small ones. Smiles and silly faces, and laughter, oh the laughter that comes with raising four boys.
So for now, and probably always, home is where my heart is.
All roads lead back to home.