The Myth of Home

I'd like to explore a topic I've reflected on since I was a teenager, one that's been increasingly informed by my Buddhist studies and practice over the years. This topic is the concept of home: the emotional experience, the physical relationship, and even the spiritual or existential idea of home.

I hope this will be particularly useful for those interested in the Buddhist path.

Personally, the feeling, idea, or longing for home has been a struggle for as long as I can remember, probably starting around 12 or 13 years old. While I couldn't articulate it back then, looking back at my memories, there was a constant push and pull with this concept of home, a sense of unease.

Talking to others about this "existential idea of home" – what it means to be human in relation to home – revealed a spectrum of experiences. Some, like myself, experience a longing or loneliness around it, while others feel a strong sense of comfort and belonging within their physical space. Regardless, I believe we all grapple with this idea, whether actively seeking it or naturally creating it for ourselves.

However, as I mentioned, the Buddhist path brings a unique perspective. The Buddha Dharma, and the Buddha's life itself, emphasize the spiritual practice of "leaving home." This can be taken literally in the monastic setting. When taking Buddhist monastic vows (as I did – I was a monk for nine years), you pledge to change your life, leave your home, and become, in a sense, a "stranger in a strange land." I'll delve deeper into this later.

For most of us here, we're lay practitioners, so how do we apply this concept to our daily lives? While I won't belabor the point, leaving home can be a powerful metaphor for our spiritual journey of awakening, of getting to know our true nature. Letting go of the idea of home, not necessarily in a literal sense, is a concept I reflect on and work with in my practice.

Let's begin by exploring the metaphor of home as a place of comfort and belonging. We often use the phrase "feeling at home," but what does it truly mean?

In my experience, this has been a challenge. I consider myself a perpetual traveler, struggling to feel settled or "at home." As a meditator, I've come to understand this as difficulty being at home in my own body, in my own skin. This, of course,connects to the anxiety and stress I often grapple with.

A large part of my practice has become about "coming home" to my body, finding a place of grounding and space. This allows the difficulties of my emotional life – the stresses, anxieties, and daily challenges – to be felt, met with compassion, and held within a space that allows them to arise and exist.

For a long time, I grappled with the idea of home. It wasn't just about finding a physical place, but a sense of belonging that welcomed my entire experience. As a meditator, I naturally looked for this sense of home within my body. However, Buddhist teachings remind us that our body is impermanent, a temporary vessel we will eventually leave behind.

The concept of mind in Buddhism goes beyond the physical brain. It's seen as an immaterial force that transcends our physical form. Following this perspective, we can understand ourselves as constantly moving from one body, one "home," to another throughout rebirth. This inherent impermanence can be a source of existential crisis.

This realization has brought a new lens to my experience. Instead of judging myself for not finding a permanent physical haven, I view it with more compassion. This struggle, I came to understand, is a reflection of a deeper truth, as impermanence is a core principle of Buddhism.

This impermanence extends beyond the physical. Our thoughts, emotions, and experiences are all in constant flux. Clinging to the idea of a fixed, permanent home, whether physical or mental, is ultimately delusional and leads to suffering.

Here's where the Buddhist practice of Refuge comes in. Traditionally, Refuge refers to seeking shelter in the teachings of the Buddha (Dharma), the Buddha himself, and the Sangha (the community of practitioners). We appreciate their wisdom and guidance, recognizing them as a source of transformation and growth.

However, there's another way to understand Refuge, a more radical interpretation. Instead of simply seeking shelter, Refuge becomes the act of becoming a refugee ourselves. We leave behind the illusion of a permanent home and embrace the impermanent nature of existence.

This concept of being a "perpetual refugee" might sound strange at first. We aren't talking about physical displacement, but a spiritual state of constant letting go. We abandon the comfort of clinging to a fixed identity or a permanent home.

This letting go aligns with the Buddhist principle of impermanence. By accepting the ever-changing nature of reality, we can alleviate suffering. Seeking a permanent refuge is not just unrealistic, it actively creates suffering. This doesn't require blind faith. It's an invitation to explore the nature of impermanence and how it affects our search for home.

Can our sense of temporary homes – physical, emotional, even spiritual ever truly satisfy that deep craving for peace? Because let's be honest, that's what this is all about, isn't it? A yearning for some kind of lasting peace and contentment.

Ever since I was a teenager, there's been this feeling of never quite being in the right place. Always seeking, seeking, seeking. It's not a comfortable place to be, and thankfully, I've done some work to heal that pattern. But it's what led me to this deeper contemplation through the lens of Buddhism: what am I really seeking?

Here's the thing: from a Buddhist perspective, that very seeking itself can be seen as an expression of our Buddha-nature, that inherent potential for awakening. But if we're looking in the wrong places, we just end up chasing dead ends. The Buddha's teachings offer a different kind of map – one that points us towards what we're truly seeking. And that's where it gets interesting. 

The Buddha talks about a realization where there's no separate seeker and no permanent place to be found. This "no one" doesn't mean non-existence. It points to the interconnectedness of all things. We're not isolated beings, but part of a vast web of relationships – the room around me, the temperature, how I affect it, other beings… it's all a constant dance.

This concept of non-duality highlights how everything in existence is interdependent, just like a moving stream. Imagine trying to build a permanent home within that flowing water. It's futile. Instead, we can learn to flow with the current, to stop resisting the natural changes of life. Clinging to a fixed idea of home only leads to suffering as circumstances inevitably change.

Now, this doesn't mean we all have to become physical nomads. We still need places to live and families to raise. The point is about our inner attitude, our approach to life. The goal is to find contentment within the ever-changing flow of experience.

Looking back on my own experience of relentless seeking, I see it as a result of not working with the natural flow of things. I was always trying to find that perfect little nest, only to have it washed away by the current. And then I'd suffer.

There aren't any easy answers here. This is more of an ongoing process of exploration. By questioning the nature of the seeker, what we seek, and why, we can begin to see beyond the illusion of a separate self. We can start to experience the interconnectedness that is our true nature.

I've been wanting to talk about this idea of home for a long time. It's such a powerful concept for me, and as I reflect on it, I keep getting new insights and experiences. Sure, we all need a physical space to live. But what about this inner sense of home? Can we cultivate a feeling of internal homelessness, not in the sense of loneliness or lack, but in a way that allows us to flow with the ever-changing current of life?

The concept of taking refuge in the Buddha's teachings resonates with me. But the challenge lies in staying a refugee. The world around us constantly pushes security and stability, telling us to build comfortable nests. Financial security, safety nets – these are important, but how do we avoid clinging to them?

The key seems to be in our internal view. This isn't about some lofty spiritual ideal or retreating from the world. You can be wealthy, middle-class, with or without a family – it's all about your approach to life. The Buddhist teachings on impermanence and egolessness become crucial here.

We can cultivate a sense of connection and interdependence, moving away from the subject-object duality of "me" and "mine." Meditation plays a vital role in this process. By observing the mind, we see the constant flux of thoughts and emotions. The concept of a fixed self dissolves as we witness the ever-changing nature of experience.

Can we then take refuge in that very change, becoming perpetual refugees? It's a radical idea, but maybe that's the point.

This exploration is ongoing for me. I'd love to hear from you. Do you share a similar struggle with finding a sense of home? Have you found ways to work with impermanence in your daily life? Please feel free to reach out and share your stories, struggles, and triumphs, both on the spiritual path and in life in general. By listening to each other, we can learn and grow together, finding solace and support in the midst of impermanence.