My new home office is on the fourth floor of the townhouse. We’ve named that floor the Eagles nest. It’s sounds more appealing to say, “come up to the eagles nest” than “hey, climb up three flights of stairs.”
On that floor there is a deck outside that offers a unique perspective. Literally. Of the heart of the United States.
There in the not so far distance is the US Capitol building. It looks like the Statue of Freedom on the top of it is being prepared for something, perhaps being taken down for restoration. I find the timing of that so interesting.
Then there is my new fitness center with the banner of One Life Fitness on it. The words “one life” stand out to me.
In front of that is the 695 highway. I imagine the flow of traffic like arteries of the heart of the nation going out into the world, sometimes clogged up by too much humanness.
Underneath, in the underpass, lives a woman in a home she created for herself.
You cannot see the top of the Capitol without seeing her home. It all goes together hand in hand.
Her home is neat and tidy. It feels like a home. There is a vacuum cleaner and a toaster oven, both in their proper place, although there is no electricity for them.
She keeps her shoes outside, placed in an orderly row in front of the entrance to her tent.
And on the walls of the underpass, she had decorated them by taping art on top of the backdrop of graffiti.
Taped on the walls are letters as works of art to spell out “love” and “mercy” (the C has fallen off for the moment.)
I’ve only seen her a few times, but I think about her and send her blessings. (Why she may be there is a topic for another time.)
Having recently, and unexpectedly, not only moved but gave away almost all my furniture, seeing her version of home touches and challenges me.
While in the process of deciding to move, I reflected on the question, “what does home truly mean to me now?”
Home may look and feel different to each of us, and change over the course of our lifetime.
Seeing her words, I am reminded that a place where love and mercy are a daily practice, with myself and other, feels like true home in my heart, no matter the circumstances.
Love and mercy.
Mercy and love.
Given the state of the world, we still don’t even begin to practice either of these qualities enough. And more hate will only beget more of the same. What’s going to truly change things? I know that’s a simple question to a complex situation. Or is it?
Maybe my neighbor is right.
Maybe it simply begins with love and mercy.
If love and mercy can live in an underpass in a place most would not want to call home, surely love and mercy can live elsewhere, beginning in our own hearts and homes.
What’s in your heart and home?