Home

My real home doesn’t feel like a safe space to open up. I like to think of home as a garden. A place where I can sit, look at the flowers or herbs, and trees. A place where I can be me. A place where no one can bother me. I can close my eyes and feel safe. A type of safe that clears my mind. When the wind brushes through my hair and the trees, it breaks the silence in the world. The taste of freshly grown fruit and vegetables that were washed right away as they were picked. The smell of soup that I can enjoy, that is as warm as the heat in the spring. Rushing water in the lotus and water lily pond gives me something else to think about. I could have a book in my lap as I sit under a Wisteria tree. The vibrant colour of lilac, and actual lilacs on the ground and hanging above, makes me less tense. Home can be anything, you just have to think about what it is that makes you feel safe. When you get home from a long day, you could sit on your bed, close your eyes and think. When thinking about a place you could call home, it could be something that feels impossible, but nothing is impossible. If home isn’t the best place for you, just think of one that’s enough for you.