Homebody

“Homebody”—What does it mean? That the body is home? That the home is a body?

Because I currently live in the home where I grew up, I thought about the word “homebody” and realized my first real home was in the giant sagebrush that grew in our back field when I was about ten years old.

I loved lying in the freshly mowed grasses at the beginning of summer. After the field had been mowed by my father I loved snuggling down into the cozy warmth of pale shorn gold to escape the ever present winds that came off the ocean.

I realized that the giant sagebrush in the center of the field was enticing as a hideout, crawl space, nap space. I decided I could embellish it even more with the cut grass that surrounded me. And this I did by stuffing it into the nooks and crannies of the giant sage. At first casually and then with a little more purpose I realized the bundles made a building material as well. So I stuffed the grass carefully between the branches and stiff leaves until they filled all the empty spaces yet still had room to breathe. Now the breezes could roam gently in my sagebrush shelter, but no one could see me.

This privacy allowed my imagination a place to wander without interruption. I was a child that was constantly making up stories about the Wild West and inventing pets and new family members. I was solitary most of the time as there were only a few children my age in town. The only entertainment was a radio and my much loved books.

I saw I had the opportunity to make this a special place so added a favorite old blanket to the ground under the sage brush. I added bits of wood and fashioned some branches into a chair, and placed some favorite toys about. So it went. This snuggly place inside the gnarly sagebrush added up to a home even though I wasn’t aware of it. Home is a body. Body is home.

And every place I have lived in since that first experience with home building relied on this simple vocabulary. I built my homes from the inside out. To this day I don’t care that paint is peeling in places. And sometimes the outside comes inside in the form of flowers, rocks and wood. Once in awhile, the inside goes outside in the guise of pillows, chairs, and blankets.

Over time I realized making a home is a way to solidify a spiritual inner life into a reality. I build homes from the inside out. House is a structure and home is where your soul lives. 

Build it carefully.