Sometimes I visualize my soul as a house. A large, bright, white-painted house with patches of color that breathe life into it. Sometimes, I imagine it on the high shore next to the sea and another time hidden in the mountains, next to the lake with diamond sparks. It becomes solid, of stone and wood, a sanctuary of emotions and dreams. This house is wonderful; warm when I’m cold, welcoming every time, solid and stable, unswerving by the whims of time, full of love and memories. These can be found everywhere around, even scattered around the house like guardians of o sacred temple. They warn you from a distance that the place is a special one, and only those who come with peace and love in their hearts can enter.

In every room you find the place assigned to every person living in my soul. But my house is empty, there is nobody here except me. All are free to come and stay whenever they want and for as long as they want. They are free to live in places outside without being afraid they will never find their place back in my soul.

Sometimes I feel my thirst for freedom and open my home to the world, to the immensity of the sea and to the greatness of the mountain. I open the gates, the doors and the windows and let the energy come to life. Other times , I close and lock my doors with locks and thick chains, not wanting company and sinking into conversations with my loneliness. We sit on the terrace in the evening with a glass of wine and remember how we met and how much we disliked each other. Or maybe for her I was love at first sight, I still don’t know. It is certain that she hasn’t left me and I have learned to accept it and even to find her beautiful, to seek her and to lure her to stay when she wants to leave me.

In days of isolation I meet only with my own fears and defects, limitations and desires. We sit at the table as old friends and renegotiate our relationship. They often give in seeing that I am not afraid anymore of their ugliness and weakness and leave me alone. Other times I give up and allow them to stay for a few days in my soul. Never too much though.

Sometimes I receive visits, daily from my family and dear friends, sometimes from far away, people who return after a long time and ask me why I let them go when it’s so good in my soul. Sometimes I get visits from foreigners who stop at the gates and seldom get to see the house from the doorstep. Most of the time I receive compliments “you have such a beautiful house, how did you managed to built it like this, I would love to stay here …” others just admire it from afar being intimidated by the high iron gates.

The mountain chalet is my sanctuary, only the family and maybe two or three people can get there. It’s the most secret place where I find my peace and I heal. It’s the place where I have been living for so many years, hidden from the world without being exposed.

In the beach house I moved recently , when I decided not to hide from the world anymore and face my own demons. All that matters is that, no matter where I am, I am HOME. Without searches, without losing myself, without running after illusions, without longing after someone else’s home, without paying rent to a merchant soul.

Home is always the place where your heart is … and my heart is always here with me.