Being with Grief 
through the Holidays 

I Am Making a Home Inside Myself

By Julia Fehrenbacher

 

I am making a home inside myself.

A shelter of kindness where everything is forgiven, everything allowed—a quiet patch of sunlight to stretch out without hurry,

where all that has been banished and buried is welcomed, spoken, listened to—released.

 

A fiercely friendly place I can claim as my very own.

I am throwing arms open to the whole of myself—especially the fearful, fault-finding, falling apart, unfinished parts, knowing

every seed and weed, every drop of rain, has made the soil richer.

 

I will light a candle, pour a hot cup of tea, gather

around the warmth of my own blazing fire. I will howl

if I want to, knowing this flame can burn through

any perceived problem, any prescribed perfectionism,

any lying limitation, every heavy thing.

 

I am making a home inside myself

where grace blooms in grand and glorious

abundance, a shelter of kindness that grows

all the truest things.