Moving Across The Continent Revealed My True Home.

But it wasn’t the usual home.

What is my true home?

It’s a question that I grappled with ever since I moved out of my home country at 21. Chasing dreams, I landed across the continent, in the United States — the land of opportunities.

By God’s grace, I eventually found the success I envisioned.

But homesickness followed me and haunted me. Over time, the longing to find a home only intensified.

This quest subconsciously drew me to California, a place that I instantly fell in love with.

And I succeeded in finding my true home.

But it wasn’t the usual home.

It wasn’t the wonderful neighborhood I lived in, with beautiful parks nearby where I took my evening walks. It wasn’t the cozy apartment, that I decorated like a spiritual sanctuary.

The true home that I found, was myself.

There was a comforting essence about California that sheltered my soul, even in challenging times. Yet, the greatest gift the place granted me was solitude. I experienced and embraced it in all its glory.

It was in solitude that I was led to develop a safe place within myself.

“Within you is a stillness and sanctuary to which you can retreat at any time and be yourself” — Heman Hesse

Back To My Hometown

The revelations I had about life during my solitude led me to make a big decision — to return to my hometown, and to live closer to my family. Once I settled back in my hometown, more magic unveiled itself to me.

I started to feel the power of long-lost memories.

I thought I had my sense of home all figured out. But being back in my hometown after many years, added a new depth to my sense of a home.

Those cherished loved ones, who departed long ago, felt vividly present to me — through the sheer strength of memories.

Wherever I wandered, memories of my joyful childhood, filled with moments alongside my late father, grandfather, and grandmother, flooded back to me.

It was beautiful.

Outside my hometown and my comfort zone, I may have succeeded in reconnecting with my deepest inner self. But it was only in my hometown, that I reconnected with my roots.

After all these years, I unexpectedly felt a profound spiritual connection I never anticipated.

Nostalgia was not just a phenomenon anymore, it became a connection with my loved ones, beyond the realms of this material bondage.

I realized that my hometown is the sacred link to my ancestors.

Mother Earth

My hometown changed as much as my life over the years. But one thing remained all too familiar — nature.

The air still smelled like the sea.

The trees were still as lush green as ever.

The ocean remained painted in familiar shades of blue.

My mind wandered back to California, where I spent many solitary hours in nature. I would either sit by the sea, or I would wander on hikes, enveloped by the canopy of towering trees.

Then it wandered back, to the beach in my hometown, where my dad would take me to build sand castles.

End of the day, Mother Nature tied together all my experiences of home — the home in myself, the home in California, and the home in my hometown.

Just like our shared home — the divine cosmos that gave life to each of us.