Home: as a fellow writer posted on their page, home can mean many things. I currently live in the “home” of my heart, Upper Michigan. But I’ve been to a couple of places that had the same feeling.
I visted Italy in 2005 with my mother. I’ve loved Italy for many years and finally was there in person. I am a believer in past lives and I ran into myself all over Italy. Places were familiar, I was able to find a few places by listening to those old memories. That was interesting. I felt at ease there and my energy was so much lighter.
In 2007, I went to Kenya. This was a different kind of “home”. We were in Mbita, a small village along the shore of Lake Victoria. This was a medical mission and we took care of many Kenyans. BTW, I was the only person of color in our group, I am Native American. At dinner one night towards the end of the visit, one of my coworkers asked me why the Kenyans seem to like me better than the other workers. Before I could answer, Dr. Sawa (our Kenyan doctor and head of the clinc we were at), spoke up and said it was because I was Native. They knew that I was a tribal person like them and they responded to that. I hadn’t realized they picked up on that. Home became more like we are all tribal peoples.
WillowBear Musings 