There is a special kind of welcome you feel when you come into a room where the table is set, all ready for the beloved, anticipated guests. But there is a different kind of welcome implicit in an empty table, where anyone, it seems, might sit down without knowing who they might encounter, or what might be served.
How do you make a place at the table to welcome the stranger or the unknown?
Oranges only ripen on the tree—it doesn’t work to pick an orange that isn’t ready and have it ripen on your windowsill. Sometimes we need to take the time to be just where we are—to hang on our own particular tree—and wait for the point when we are fully prepared to share our gifts.
What are you patiently allowing to come to fruition?
Let’s get real. Your home might be your place of comfort, your nest, your creative expression or your retreat, but it is not your castle. And really, would you want to live so set apart from the rest of humanity?
What sort of dwelling serves as the best metaphor for how you see your home in the world?
The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.
―Maya Angelou
Where do you feel most at home?
Each of us glows with an inner light, a spark of holiness inherent in our being. But sometimes it’s hard to feel the presence of that light, and harder still to feel like you are making your light shine out in the world. In those moments it really helps when someone or something can lend us a little glow until we can find our own spark again.
Who or what has helped your to rekindle your inner light?
