A year ago today, I sent a picture of my house
key to a friend of mine with the caption “precious metal”. Moving into
this home was precious in so many ways. As I reflect back over this past year,
I do so with gratitude and a measured sense of accomplishment. It was scary
leaving everyone and everything I knew in Los Angeles and start over not
knowing a soul in the Carolina's. It was the right kind of scared
and I’m thankful for having the guts to have done so. I purchased this home on
my own, with my money and resources and single-handedly unpacked every box,
filled every cabinet and closet, hung every picture and decorated every room.
When all was said and done, I was pleasantly exhausted and beyond grateful.
It's never been lost on me how blessed I am to be a homeowner and especially
the owner of this home.
When we think of a home, so many things come to mind. For me I think about the story it tells when friends and family visit. I have a sign over my front door that says, “Love is spoken here”. It is there by design. It is my hearts intent that while here, my guests feel that they are home and that within these walls is a place of love, acceptance and respite.
Having lived in LA for 22 years, I had become accustomed to the congested living, noise pollution and countless utility wires strung across my yard. I now enjoy scenic country roads, a sprawling yard with lush trees and flowers, and wide-open skies with zero obstructions.
My greatest joy came about six months after moving here. I had come home from work, made a cup of tea and went out to my patio to pray and meditate. I looked up at the sky and perfectly placed was a cloud shaped like a dove. I was overcome with a sense of peace and felt a liquid love pour over me. I took a deep breath in and realized that I was now… truly home.
