My Homeland

The idea that I have been pondering for some time now is "My Homeland".

Homeland.... an idea that could embrace a myriad of things.

Is it my country, or is that too grand of a scale?  Is it the state that I live in, or the city?  Is it where I was born, or where I currently live?  Can it change over the years, or does it remain unchanging with the passing of time?  Where do I find it?  Does it somehow lodge itself inside of me and become a part of my being?

Over a decade ago I came across a phrase that I loved, and painted on a wooden board which has hung in every home I have had since.

"Home is where your story begins" 

I still believe that, but, perhaps if I were to paint this signpost again, I would expand on it.  Perhaps it should read, "Home is where your story begins and it guides you chapter by chapter in the epic that is your life".  Its a bit wordy, but that doesn't make it any less true.

For many, homeland is what you use to identify yourself, as in "I'm an American".  We sometimes feel the need to narrow that down, where my husband, after identifying himself as a Texan, would elaborate "I'm from San Antonio".  There is a certain pride and emotion in the places and things we identify ourselves with.  We are not just the place that we are from, but who and what we associate ourselves with.  For me, "I am a Mormon" is an important part of my identity.  

My personal homeland is a complex thing, added to over the years, layer upon layer, like some pearl forming deep within the core of my being; an integral part of me that has helped me develop into the person that I am.  It is the thing within that defines me, a reserve within me that I can draw upon when I find myself on rocky shoals and in need of solid ground.  

My core, built from my experiences consists not only of places, but of things, memories, people... all of which have influenced me for good or ill in my life.  Not all of the experiences are pleasant, but all have, in some way, brought me strength or peace.  The darker sides of that core are still there.... a childhood of abusive words and bullying left me for a long time struggling to feel a positive self worth.  A former destructive marriage partner at one point had me struggling with issues of trust.  While these experiences are part of me, and always will be, that pearl is continually building up.  Like the natural pearl, some of these experiences will cause bulging on one side or another, but the layers built since those experiences are ones that have proven time and again that I have an inner strength and resiliency.  I may not have wanted some of those memories and experiences, but I have changed them to where they now help, rather than hinder me.

So who am I?  What things do I identify as my own personal "Homeland"?

Well, silly as it may sound, I am part of a global family, one who shares the lands and waters of this marvelous blue ball we call Earth.  I am an American, and am proud of the fact that my forebears worked to come to this land where I have so many freedoms and opportunities available to me.

I was born in California, but I am, in my heart, a Washingtonian as I was raised in its mountains and forests, and nestled amongst its rolling hills of wheat, barley and alfalfa.  My heart and soul still thrills at seeing the tall grasses waving in the breeze like some vast, rolling green inland sea.  I find peace in the sound of the wind as it roars through the trees, giving them voice to call out to their brothers in century-slow voices.  I love experiencing things in nature that others do not seem to notice.

As such, I consider myself a country girl, and one of simple pleasures.  As I said before, I am a Mormon and feel blessed to count myself among such a wonderful congregation of people.  

I am a wife, and while I have not been blessed with children of my own, that has not stopped me from being a mothering presence to those in need of it.  I am a part of my family here, and I love them dearly.  Home is never felt stronger for me than when I am near my loved ones and when we are together.

I am a friend and confidant.  

There are so many things tied up into what I consider my own personal definition of home that there is no way to fully explain it to you, as home is something that has to be felt in the heart.  And, sadly, most of us are judged on our outward appearance as the things of the heart just cannot be fully expressed in words.  Its taken a long time for me to find peace with that idea... that there are just some things that people are unable to know.

As a child, when I was bullied it was hard to think good about myself, because I did not have that reserve developed.  I would hide myself away to cry and wonder what it was about me that made me so different that it would subject me to ridicule.  It couldn't have been just my weight, because some of the kids who teased me were overweight themselves, or had other such defects that should have made them the subject of teases and taunting.  I took it to mean that there was something lacking in me... and for years I allowed that to define me.  I still found my simple pleasures, but I told myself that they were silly little imaginings and that I should let such childish things go... that I had to grow up.

I am glad that I never really got around to taking my own advice, because my imagination is a strong part of who I am.  It is what forms me into the creative person that I am today.  It has also shown me compassion towards others... even those that are not kind to me, and respect for others, even when they are different from me.

Most importantly, I am me.  Just me.... simple sometimes, and complex others. I am the culmination of my experiences and thoughts, and I can choose what I will allow myself to keep bright and shiny on the surface for any to see or what to allow to sink to the depths, to be let go of and be replaced with things more suitable to my nature and what I want to be.  

I am home, and I carry it within me, wherever I roam in life.  All this and more encapsulated within and yet flowing throughout my core; freely shared with those around me.  Home is what you make of it... it is the things that you allow to define yourself and your relationship to the world that surrounds you.  It is an ever-growing and ever-expanding place within your heart that you never need let go of, and yet is infinite enough to share time and time again.

Home is love.