Home is a feeling.
Twenty years ago when I was having multiple visions of being Cat RunningElk, of moving constantly cross country and back, of serving and healing others for years to come, I was more than a little bit resistant.
I had two young daughters and what I wanted to be more than anything else was a great mother for them. I wanted to give them a good home.
My idea then of a good home was based on old concepts and ideas of place. I thought that stability meant staying in one place. I thought security meant a dollar amount in the bank. I thought that love meant sacrificing myself and my needs for their needs.
As I sat tearfully holding Grace and Lolo in my arms, way back then when they seemed so small and fragile, I had yet another vision of going.
My Reiki Master and Teacher looked at me with loving eyes and said, “Cat, they will always have home.”
I looked up at her quizzically. Didn’t she hear me explain we were going to be moving again? Didn’t she know how much we loved our mountain top home? Didn’t she see the children’s slide in the yard and the immense playground of wilderness all around us?
What was ahead of us I did not know. We were being asked to go, without a plan, without a job, without a place to land.
My guides were telling me to start packing, again.
This was totally the opposite scenario from what I wanted to give my children.
I worried they would grow up feeling insecure, never knowing what home really is.
Irene, my Reiki Teacher, looked at me on the floor as I sat cross-legged hugging Lolo and Grace close to me.
“This is home. As long as they have this, they will know the real meaning of home.” she said to me.
I looked up at her expecting to see her pointing outward to our three story A-frame on beautiful acreage high on the Continental Divide.
Instead she was pointing to me.
“As long as they have your loving arms to enfold them,” she pretended to hug, wrapping her arms around herself, “That’s home. Your children will not associate a place with home. They will learn something more important.”
“The way they feel when they are in your arms, this…” she came and sat beside us on the floor as she continued, “This…they will learn, this is home.”
I squeezed Lolo and Grace and kissed the tops of their heads and let the tears fall from my eyes.
I promised to always give them a good home.
And I have.
From Seattle to the Rocky Mountains, from Pine Island to Kansas City, no matter where we roam, we are always home. In each other’s arms.
Come home for the holidays.
My arms are open wide if you need me. Just a thought, or a phone call away…
Loving you unconditionally today and always.
At home in love,