Tuesday, April 28, 2009

There's no place like home

The Lightness of Being, oil on canvas, 24" x 30"
Finger painted

Part of my experience in being displaced is to yearn for a home.

There's no place I can call home right now, in a physical sense. I'm longing for something that, unlike for Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, evaporates the moment I wake up instead of having been there all the time.

In Buddhism, there's this lovely piece of advice (perhaps it's a commandment, but that's oh so authoritarian):

Be ye lamps unto yourselves.
Be ye a refuge unto yourselves.
Betake yourselves to no external refuge.
Hold fast to the truth as a lamp.
Hold fast as a refuge to the truth.
Perhaps there is no refuge, no sanctum sanctorum, no real estate that is real if it is outside oneself and the infinite resources within.

Still, I'd love a little beach cottage, with a studio for painting, a room for guests, a spot to garden, a partner to share it with, and no way in hell somebody can kick me off my land.

Just putting it out there.
Invite Beauty,

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