Home is not just the building I live in. It is a place within.
I found ‘home.’ I had been looking a long, long time.
I am easily catapulted out of the safety of my interior when confusion, pain, or fear cause anxiety to rule. I’ve felt more like a busy electron zooming around my body, not in it. But I am back inside where I belong.
Bad things happen to ‘good’ people. I am no better or worse than any other. Things happen. Sometimes they happen because of things we ourselves cause or do. That doesn’t mean blame or fault. It means human frailties, not being perfect… because no human is. It means craving things we didn’t get and still need, but seeking them in ways that may end up harming us.
Or not. Sometimes things just happen.