We're in L.A. after the sci-fi event of leaving Brisbane on Tuesday morning and--after a long, full day of travel--arriving in California on the same day.
When I checked in as "at the L.A. airport" on Facebook, people chimed in, "Welcome home!"
And I wonder: Are we home?
When you don't have a house, where is home?
We've been living a traveling life for just over a month now. In the past when I felt a tinge of home-sickness while on the road, I could think of my house, which would grant me a sense of comfort, of grounding. Now I must think of my inner home for that same feeling.
So perhaps I'm learning in deeper and deeper ways that home is truly inside. It's a vast home. It's the north star of the heart.