Thursday, February 17, 2011

Healing, Home, and the Heart

We leave our lovely mountains today. We will return, but I don't think it will still be our home. I no longer know how to feel about this place that has been home for almost five years. And I don't know how to put in perspective the relationships we've built.

It's not that I don't value our friends in the mountains, it's just that I don't have the strength to completely open my heart to a whole new set of people. Nothing makes us more vulnerable than open hearts, and I don't think I can do justice to the emotional investments of any more folks. My heart is already bursting with the people now in it.

There's a phrase in the Bible, attributed to God, "I know mine, and mine know me." This is the ultimate in intimacy. When we open our hearts to others, we often need a group of intimate friends to hold onto us as we enter into love. Only then can we be sure of remaining ourselves, in addition to being at home in our blended selves. I want to spend my last years among the people who I know and who know me.

The phrase, " A friend is someone who knows all about you and loves you anyway." gives me great comfort as I age. Home is really where the heart is, and my heart must be completely open in order to feel at home. My people are part of who I am, and I am a part of my people. My people are those with whom I bond to be stronger together than we are without each other. That is what makes them mine.

I also want to exercise the strength Richard and I have gained, individually and as a couple, in being available those of our people who are vulnerable by virtue of opening their hearts and souls to marriage and children. We want to be with them in their trials and tribulations, as well as their celebrations.

Home is where the healing is. I don't have a lot of faith in anonymous psychology, religion, or self-help without those who know us and our history. We can't help each other heal wounds that we cannot, or will not, see. The deeper the wounds the more we need those who really know us and know where our wounds were formed.

Maybe my mountains will become a retreat where we come to simply rest and be.


  1. Here you have put your finger on why the Bible is a book of stories instead of a book of admonitions and regulation---it is the story of where and how God acted in the lives/histories of specific people---and based on His actions in those lives, we can look to His action in our lives. This is why debating ideas about different religious views and ideologies has no interest for me; I prefer the stories of when , where, and how God was "there" in our lives.

  2. This post reminded me of the old saying, "Different strokes for different folks." I love these mountains and the people of the mountains. I also loved living in NOLA and loved the people I met there. Some are still friends today. I also loved living in Africa and the beautiful souls I shared times with there. I'm a native of Florida. So what does that mean? Maybe that anywhere is better than?? ☻ ☻ ☻

  3. Be VERRRY CAREFUL,or you will become a NOMAD, with no place allowing your foot its rest.

    Since six yrs old, when I remember hearing Frankie Lane sing:'My heart goes where the wild goose goes, and I'm a brother to the old wild goose. And somehow I twisted the words to say "A wandering foot is a heart at rest".

    I don't think you have gone that far, I just think you 'WANT TO GO HOME'.

    I have only one wealthy friend. They own Three beautiful homes. The wife told Sherry the other day, "I want to go home, but I don't know where home is!"

    Some of US create our own delimma, I think Katrina created yours.

    Love you and enjoy the NEW HOME.