Finding a home within ourselves

There is something surprising about moving from place to place. You learn things you never expected to learn. You discover what you lean on, what you reach for, and what you believe you need in order to feel at ease. Over the last year my life has taken this shape. No house of my own. No familiar corner to return to. Every stay either temporary or in exchange for work. For some people this feels natural. For me it asked a real shift. It lifted me out of the comfort a permanent home brings. The soft reassurance of a space that holds you, welcomes you, and gives you rest.

Not long after selling my house I travelled through Wales. Somewhere along the cliffs and quiet valleys something became very clear. Life was inviting me to find a different kind of home. A home carried within, independent of places and independent of people. For years I had relied on my house to give me refuge. I used to call it my cave, the place where I slipped out of the world and into myself. When that space was gone I suddenly stood in the open. It felt exposing at first, then strangely freeing. I realised that when I could feel at home within myself, no matter where I was, there would be an inner steadiness that nothing around me could disturb. A sense of belonging that travelled with me.

Community and connection have grown in meaning for me in recent years. I love the warmth of it. I love the depth it creates. At the same time I have always been used to living alone, happiest in my own bubble. So this path of learning to feel at home inside myself, without the structure of a familiar place, brought many layers with it. It asked me to soften old habits. It asked me to open. It asked me to trust.

I have just moved from Yorkshire to Wales again and I am settling into a fresh space. Every move brings the same moment of reflection. I notice the expectations I still hold around what makes a place feel like home. I notice the pull toward certain kinds of comfort. I notice how easy it is to attach to familiar walls and familiar faces. And I notice something else. A quiet voice that reminds me that the real home is built from presence, connection, and a sense of belonging to life itself.

Many people go through this in their own way. You might not be moving homes. You might be shifting through relationships, careers, identities, or chapters of life that ask you to stand on new ground. It can feel disorienting. It can feel like the solid things have loosened. Yet inside that space something genuine begins to form. A deeper inner grounding. A place where you meet yourself with honesty. A place you can return to at any moment. A place that gives you ease even when the outside world is changing.
I am still learning this. And that is completely fine. Growth has its own rhythm. Every person walks their own pace. There is no finish line. There is only the unfolding. When we learn to recognise that our sense of home lives in our presence, our breath, our connection with life, something shifts. We settle into ourselves. We feel safe in our own company. We move through change with softer edges.

And suddenly the world feels a little more like home. Wherever we stand.