Hello friends, family, and followers.
It’s been a minute! Over the past few months, I paused this blog to prioritize work and starting a new job. Thank you for your patience. Returning to writing feels like returning to myself again. Today, we continue the Home, Dwelling, and Belonging series.
Throughout my life, I’ve been searching for and exploring these themes. As a senior in high school, I even wrote an essay about home in Jane Austen’s Persuasion. During this search, I’ve left my hometown in the San Francisco Bay Area and lived in New York, Washington state, and Spain. In the last post, I reflected on an exhibit titled Dwelling: New Acquisitions, which highlighted:
“the varied conceptualizations of home – as a physical location, a familial tradition, a contentious reality, or the psychic interiority of one’s own body… the works on display demonstrate how places as well as people, histories, and objects have represented home and shaped these artists’ lives and artistic expressions.”
This expanded my understanding of home—especially the idea that “objects and materials that are close to us… shape our surroundings and reflect our desires,” that “several artists explore our first and last homes: our vulnerable and ever-changing bodies,” and even that art itself can be a dwelling place. (Veronica Roberts, Aleesa Pitchamarn Alexander, and others, Dwelling: New Acquisitions, Cantor Arts Center)
How I Experience Home
Through reflecting on the questions from the last post, I’ve realized that home can be found in multiple places and moments—it is not one fixed location. I have felt home:
With close friends and lovers near and far.
Walking in the woods– among sycamore, oak, birch and redwood trees.
Floating in the salty ocean, letting the current rock me.
Swimming laps in an outdoor pool.
Driving through the mountains.
Cooking borsch and latkes.
Smelling coffee in the morning.
Listening to music and dancing wholeheartedly.
Reading books that touch my heart and soul.
Sitting in a cozy reading nook.
Journaling and writing.
Creating and sharing art.
Practicing yoga.
In the body of Christ.
Among kind, hospitable, open-minded people.
In making this list, I notice that many of these are actions, not destinations. Experiencing home is active, not passive. Even with people, feeling at home requires planning, spending time together, doing meaningful activities, and being open and vulnerable. Home doesn’t fall into our lap. We stumble into it through intentional movement, curiosity, and presence.
“There are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the ground; there are a thousand ways to go home again.” — Rumi
How to Find Home Again
Sometimes we outgrow what once felt like home and are left searching again. Parts of our lives no longer fit who we are. Or we move somewhere new and get a chance at a fresh start.
Just as the universe continues to expand, we can continue to reimagine and rebuild our lives. We grow. We evolve. We can recreate home with people, places, activities, objects, and living beings that matter to us—even if we didn’t grow up feeling at home. We can reclaim home.
“You can have more than one home. You can carry your roots with you, and decide where they grow.” — Henning Mankell
So how do we begin?
Start by reflecting on your life so far. What has felt like home before? Then, intentionally bring more of those pieces into your present. Maybe you loved drawing as a child but abandoned it. Maybe your answer has been within you all along, waiting for your attention.
Ask yourself:
- What used to bring me joy, excitement, or comfort?
- What makes me feel truly alive?
- What makes my mind grow quiet and the world fade away?
- What have I been meaning to do but keep putting off?
- What parts of myself have I lost or let go dormant?
Take one step. Pick up that proverbial paintbrush—slowly, without expectation.
Objects matter, too.
Even simple objects and foods can be gateways home. They carry memory and cultural identity. For example, many Chinese households display a bowl of oranges for prosperity and good luck—objects rich with cultural symbolism and comfort. For me, I instantly feel more at ease in spaces filled with books (as long as the titles aren’t unsettling). These familiar things become the backdrop of our lives.
Russian samovar in my living room (effectively, a tea pot)
Be curious. Explore.
Try new books, music, places, activities, and meet new people. Pay attention to what feels right in your body. You might walk into a café and love the vibe– only to discover they host events or gatherings that interest you.
This actually happened to me. I wandered into Red Rock Coffee in Mountain View and loved the red walls and local art. Then I learned they host an open mic every Monday. I started going regularly and met some amazing people. I even performed poetry there, which helped me grow in confidence as a performer and poet. You never know what will unfold when you walk into a new room.
(You can check out my performances at Red Rock on my Instagram page @monikamednick)
This process can take time. Be patient. It’s often trial and error.
Ask yourself:
- What season of life am I in, and what do I need? (I’m referring to your life season—what your work, school, family, and relationships look like right now.)
- What kind of people, spaces, or communities am I looking for?
- What qualities do I value right now?
If you are starting a new career or recently got married, your wants and needs will probably be different. You may want to surround yourself with others who are in a similar season as you to help navigate it. For example, when I left my full-time job to pursue creative and entrepreneurial work, I realized I needed community with others on a similar path. I’m still looking—and honestly, I’m considering creating it through Kindred, my events and programs business.
From Kindred’s bi-weekly group, South Bay Deep Chats. Click here to learn more about the group + business.
If You Can’t Find It, Create It
If you long for something that doesn’t seem to exist, maybe you’re the one meant to build it. Chances are, others need it too. It doesn’t always require something huge. Sometimes it’s as simple as starting a group and sharing it locally or online.
If you think about it, everything you see—your computer, your favorite café, your church, your favorite book—exists because someone had an idea and made space for it.
I know it’s not easy. Life is full and you may not have the capacity yet. Let the idea be a seed that will grow in time. There are things I wish I’d started earlier (like this blog), and others I’m glad I waited for until the timing was right.
But here’s the truth: life doesn’t slow down. If you want to create something new, you must make room for it. Be the protagonist in your own story. (Yes, I’m also talking to myself.)
Coming Home, Again and Again
At the end of the day, home is something we cultivate through intentional participation—with activities, people, places, and ourselves. Home is multifaceted. Home evolves. And so do we.
Is it really worth all this effort? I believe it is.
Creating a sense of home matters because it’s where we’re able to thrive and show up as our best selves. It nurtures our well-being and elevates the quality of our lives.
Wherever you are, may you have the discernment and courage to create—and recreate—home.
Peace be with you.
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