Wildflowers can grow anywhere

Over the past six months, I devoted myself to getting my longtime home ready to sell — sorting through the layers of many years of stuff, releasing two-thirds of what I'd accumulated, and learning to let go. I said goodbye to the land that had shared so much magic with my family, and I allowed myself to grieve the place where I watched my children grow up. For most of my life, *home* had been my greatest dream to build. Now, I found myself dismantling it. That process forced me to ask a deeper question: what does home truly mean to me? As I moved through all of this, I began to see that for all its beauty, many aspects of that space had grown stagnant and confining. Even though on the surface my home was a sanctuary to me, in some ways it had become a cage. I had become tethered by keeping all of it maintained, and the several decades of “stuff” felt overwhelming. Now, stepping into a new chapter in a new location, I am trying to trust something more expansive: that I can grow and belong anywhere. Home is not a place — it lives within me. There is a freedom in surrendering to the ever-changing landscape of my inner world, unbound by a place. It reminds me of the simple beauty of wildflowers — carried by the wind, blooming in unexpected places, and radiating light wherever they take root.