Home Away from Home
Even if your home is a safe place of comfort and refuge that you can return to at any time, it can still be quite upsetting to be removed from it for long or even short periods. Since time immemorial when people left home for an adventure or for some necessity, whether away for work, at camp, or on the battlefields, it has been customary to bring with them pictures and amulets of various sorts that hold precious domestic feelings and memories to serve as a conceptual umbilical connection to home.
Homesickness is suffered widely across cultures and reflects the intense emotional attachment that we humans have to our own personal homes, our native cultures, and our loved ones. Homesickness is described in the Old Testament Book of Psalms (137:1): “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.” Homer’s Odyssey opens with Athena trying to persuade Zeus to bring the homesick Odysseus back home, because he was “longing for his wife and his homecoming.” Journals and letters of explorers, colonists, immigrants, pioneers, soldiers, prisoners, boarding school students, and summer campers confirm that no matter the reason for being separated from home, the common response is the same profound longing for the familiarity of home sweet home.
If, as the saying goes, “wherever you hang your hat is home” is true, it is important that every space where you spend time provide a friendly, secure, and uplifting environment in order for your soul to feel at home wherever you are and for however long you are there. So unless you are a turtle, an armadillo, a snail, or a mollusk and literally carry your home on your back, or you are a nomad, a Gypsy caravanner, or RVer and drive your home where you are going, you will want to carry some essence of home with you when you are away from it, so that you can tap into the feeling of domestic comfort and support while you are away. And you can do that digitally these days with apps that show you what is going on in your home when you are not there.
ON THE JOB
Most of us spend the greater, if not the best, portion of our day at work, where the environment is often the opposite of cozy and sometimes downright nasty. It is not always possible, nor is it appropriate, to burn smudge or drum and chant in order to cleanse the energy in a work setting, no matter how much it might be needed. But there are many other, less obvious ways to establish a calm and centering ambience, which is infinitely more conducive to productivity and cooperation, even within a professional, public, or chaotic setting. You can benefit from the purifying qualities of sage, cedar, juniper, frankincense, and myrrh without the smoke by using essential oils. A tiny drop just below your nostrils can convey the same healing, cleansing, soothing aroma as the actual plants. These herbs and many others are also available as sprays. They smell a lot better than commercial chemical air fresheners and serve to purify the atmosphere both physically and energetically. A rose of Jericho is a perfect energy purifier for a private or communal office. Just place this dormant plant in a pretty bowl filled with water. It will open and work to collect and absorb any unsavory energy in your environment. And no one will have any idea of what you are doing—though they may comment on your unusual plant!
Some people prefer to work in an anonymous environment, but most of us like to have some personal touches in our surroundings, be they sentimental, spiritual, or silly. These special images and objects are, like a fingerprint, stamps of identity. They are statements of ownership that ground us and remind us of who we really are, or aspire to be—not as we are defined by our job. You can, and probably already do, fill your cubicle or office with mementos of home, family, and friends, as well as travel memorabilia and an assortment of small items that amuse or inspire you—a special coffee cup, a nice pillow to sit on, a screen saver with a photo of your daughter’s birthday party, a rock from your last hike. These treasures create a virtual home away from home, a spiritual safe haven in the midst of stressful surroundings. Your altars and amulets carry the energy of your home when you are at work or school and they keep you connected to a supportive homey energy whenever you need it during your day.
It is possible to create a lovely and effective altar even in a really small place—on the dashboard of your cab or truck, or on the inside of your locker door, for example. Schoolkids and workers alike decorate their lockers with pictures, magnets, inspirational quotes, and other personally relevant items. This practice offers instant cheer every time the door is opened. A desktop altar can be assembled with just one or two carefully chosen items—a candle, for example, to light with intention at the start of an assignment or project, as a mini meditation to clear your mind and help you focus on the task at hand.
You can create the same result by fashioning a small altar in a box, basket, or pouch that you can keep on a shelf or in a closet or drawer and access whenever you need to. Why not keep a collection of small natural items—stones, shells, acorns, pinecones, crystals, or dried flowers—hidden in a desk drawer to fondle when you are frazzled and longing to be outside in nature. This tiny ritual can function as a one-minute vacation to a favorite hideaway retreat.
There are ways to enlist your electronic devices as collaborators in your efforts to nourish your spirit while at work. You can easily adjust your screen saver with images of inspiration, a favorite quotation, an affirmation, a beautiful mandala, or a nature scene, and breathe it in when you turn your computer on. When you stop paying attention to it, change the image to keep your response fresh. You can also set an alarm (don’t ask me how, I am a complete techno-poop) to remind you to take a break, take a walk, take a deep breath. I love this feature. It has trained me to get up and move around every hour. And even though it means interrupting my immediate attention on what I am doing, at the end of five minutes away from my work, my concentration is revitalized.
If you are a mail carrier, farmer, visiting nurse, or other occupation that keeps you on the move with no delineated workspace, you can carry special charms, amulets, and talismans in your purse, pocket, or briefcase to keep you connected to your personal life wherever you are. An amulet bag filled with small, meaningful items of spiritual significance is like an altar on the go. Just looking at or touching these sacred items puts you in mind of what is truly important to you. This gives you the same sense of inner peace, safety, and satisfaction that you feel in your own home. Most folks today, whatever their work environment, have created mobile altars on their cell phones filled with fond photos of family, friends, fun, favorite places, music, and objects, which they carry around with them, keeping a constant connection with what is meaningful. This device can serve as the essence of home in your pocket.
TAKING LEAVE
Your residence is your sanctuary, your refuge, your home base. It is the place where you prepare yourself to go out into the world and which then welcomes you when you return. Your home gives you energy. Or, if the atmosphere is stale, it saps your energy. In the same way, your energy, your spirit, has a palpable effect on your home. I know how vital it is for me to take some tangible reminders of home when I am away, which makes me wonder how my home feels when I am not there. (If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound if there is no one there to hear?) To ensure the continued reciprocal energy exchange with your house, take some reminders of home with you when you go and also leave some reminders of you at home. Prepare your place for your going. Try to leave it clean and orderly, which makes it so nice to return to. Bless your house with protection while you are gone. Bless the kitchen that feeds you, the bed that embraces you at night, your computer, your plants, your altars. Put out some fresh flowers to add fragrance and beauty to your home while you are away.
Our connection to home and family is a powerful protection that can sustain us when we are not there. As the dancer Bella Lewitsky said, “To move freely you must be deeply rooted.” To be able to leave home, we have to believe that we can always return, that, yes, you can go home again. Even when leaving home to embark on a grand adventure, whether a vacation, a study year abroad, a new job, or a long-hoped-for emigration, parting can be “such sweet sorrow,” bittersweet, and angst-ridden. In Hindu societies, family members tie a string around a traveler’s wrist when s/he is embarking on a journey, so that they may retain their connection to the each other across time and space.
TRAVEL
In addition to the emotional turmoil of preparing, packing, and leaving for a journey, the process of traveling is fraught with insecurity, the unfamiliar, and potential impediments, all of which produce a certain amount of anxiety. The same can certainly be said about life itself. Travel, in fact, is an ancient and universal metaphor for life: life as path, as road, as voyage, as journey, as a trip.
Because of the uncertainty and potential perils of travel, people everywhere have always petitioned the Powers That Be for protection and smooth passage.
May calm be spread around you May the sea glisten like greenstone and the shimmer of summer dance along your path.
—Maori
May the hills lie low may the sloughs fill up, in thy way May all evil sleep may all good awake, in thy way.
—Scottish
In the house made of dawn In the story made of dawn On the trail of dawn…. It is finished in beauty in the house of evening light From the story made of evening light On the trail of evening light.
—Navajo
Ten thousand things bright ten thousand miles/ no dust, water and sky one color houses shining along your road.
—Chinese
May you have warm words on a cool evening, a full moon on a dark night, and a smooth road all the way to your door.
—Irish
BLESS THE ROAD
Whether traveling by foot, by animal, or by motorized vehicle, a smooth road is essential for a safe journey. When road travel becomes hazardous, a blessing is called for. When the N1 road in the Limpopo province of South Africa became the site of a radical increase in accident fatalities a while ago, a large group of traditional healers gathered to perform a cleansing ceremony to reduce the carnage. The president of the healers association explained, “We are healing this road of death, so that motorists will be safe. As things stand now, the N1 reeks of blood.”
The towns of Wanneroo and Rockingham in Western Australia celebrate annual Blessings of the Roads to ensure safe driving and to honor the road workers and police who keep them safe.
The village of Baan Nong Kung in Thailand was founded in 1932, and as a gesture of gratitude and blessing, the residents erected a spirit house decorated with elephant and horse sculptures and planted it right in the middle of the main thoroughfare, which was a dirt road. Some seventy-five years later, the road was widened and paved and the spirit house stayed in the center. One motorist was so disgusted by having it in the way of efficient traffic flow that he loudly ridiculed the spirit house. On his way home he was killed by a ten-wheeler truck and became the first in a long line of traffic deaths. A road construction worker also offended the spirit house, immediately after which he was run over by a tractor. Many people died after that, so the headman ruled that since the spirit house has always kept us safe, mocking it will not be allowed, and since then no one else has died on that road.
Washing of the Road ceremonies are celebrated every year in early September in Brazil. The Lavagem is a mystic tradition that was most likely begun in the early nineteenth century in the Bahia province. The faithful still walk in an eight-kilometer procession to the Bonfim Church, where the slaves were once forced to scrub the path and steps that lead to it. Slavery was abolished in 1880, but the washing with floral water, the dancing and singing of Yoruban chants continue. This cleansing ritual has now hit the streets in Manhattan and in Newark, New Jersey. The Lavagem parade of 46th Street in Manhattan’s Little Brazil is an exuberant celebration of both Brazilian independence from Portugal and slave emancipation. It is a purification rite that washes away the tears and sins of the past.
VEHICLES
Animals are the oldest form of transportation, after human feet. And the impulse to elicit blessings for a secure ride is just as old. Horses, donkeys, water buffalo, and elephants are commonly honored by being decorated and blessed. This Equine Blessing comes from the Palio, the famous horse race held annually in Siena, Italy, since 1310:
Bless these beasts of burden.
May our steeds be swift of foot, calm of nature,
Strong in body, and sound in mind.
Give them the gift of a smooth gait.
Bestow them with exceptional health and long life.
Honor us with their presence, and make us worthy stewards.
The Arabic word dua means “to call out,” “to summon.” An Islamic dua to petition for the protection of an animal and rider is: “If you buy a camel, then you should take hold of its hump and say a dua, ‘O Allah, I ask You for the goodness within her and the goodness that you have made her inclined towards, and I seek refuge with You from the evil within her and the evil that you have made her inclined towards.’” This same dua is now used to bless new cars.
People around the world are careful to consecrate every mode of motorized transportation. Religious clergy and traditional spiritual practitioners are commonly asked to perform a ceremony that ensures safety and luck by praying, chanting, sprinkling holy water, fanning perfumed smoke, drawing signs and symbols on the vehicle, and adorning it with flowers. In Thailand, Buddhist priests regularly bless new cars, motorbikes, and even new Thai Airways jets. In the Philippines, it is thought to be especially lucky to have a Catholic priest bless your jeep, car, or motorcycle on Palm or Easter Sunday.
At Copacabana near Lake Titicaca, Bolivia, owners decorate their cars, taxis, and buses with flower garlands, wreaths, and confetti, then line up for a weekly ceremony called La Bendición de Movilidades, “The Blessing of the Vehicles.” After the Blessing ceremony, vehicle owners and their families celebrate with champagne and fireworks. In the United States, motorcycle blessings are quite popular and many states host huge gatherings of riders each year to bless the cycles, the riders, and their friends to keep them safe and accident-free. This decades-long practice has spawned a national network of bike blessings, including blessings for bicycles, the first of which was held in 1999 at St. John the Divine Cathedral in New York City.
A Car Puja is a multi-part Hindu ceremonial blessing of an automobile officiated by a pujari along with the owner of the car.
•Blessing hands are washed three times in holy water.
•Rice is sprinkled onto the front of the car.
•A swastika, the ancient symbol that means “to be well” (not to be confused with the backward-facing Nazi symbol) is drawn on the hood of the car with the third finger of the right hand, using turmeric powder mixed with water or sandalwood paste.
•More rice is sprinkled while repeating holy mantras, including eleven of the 1,008 names of Ganesha, the elephant-god remover of obstacles.
•Incense sticks are lit and then circled around the swastika symbol three times in a clockwise movement, and then circled around the steering wheel in the same manner, while mantras are recited.
•A small Ganesha idol is blessed with holy water and installed on the dashboard to the right of the steering wheel so that it is visible to the driver.
•A coconut is then broken near the right front wheel and the milk sprinkled on the tire.
•The last step involves placing a lemon on the ground just in front of each tire and then driving over them three times in a circle until they are squashed. The breaking lemons symbolize the ridding of bad influences from the vehicle.
Of course you will want to bless your own car for safety, dependability, and pleasure. While you are at it, personalize your car by hanging good luck charms from the rear view mirror or create a dashboard altar. It has recently become popular for Jews to attach auto mezuzahs to their cars. Throughout the Third World folks sport elaborate colorful altars on the dashboards of cars, trucks, and buses. These are typically decorated with holy images, fresh or plastic flowers, statuettes of saints held erect by magnets, and all manner of lucky charms.
The blessing of boats and fleets is an ancient tradition, and still a very important event in coastal communities. Folks who use boats to fish, to transport goods, and to travel are understandably inclined to bless their vessels for safety and good luck. Several years ago I was called upon by the Governor of New York to offer a Blessing of the Fleet on the quadricentennial celebration of Henry Hudson’s voyage from Amsterdam to the New World, where he founded New Amsterdam, New York City. A huge flotilla was led by a replica of Hudson’s ship, the Half Moon, followed by Pete Seeger’s boat, Clearwater; the NYC Police and Fire boats; and a long parade of private yachts, sailboats, and row boats, canoes and kayaks. I sprayed each vessel with my collection of World Blessing Water.
The tradition of christening a new ship with spirits of the potable sort dates way back. The ancient Greeks wore olive-branch wreaths around their heads, drank wine to honor the gods, and poured water on the new boat to bless it. The Babylonians sacrificed an ox, the Turks sacrificed a sheep, and the Vikings and Tahitians offered up human blood. The USS Constitution was launched in 1797 by the Captain’s breaking a bottle of Madeira wine on its bow. The USS Hartford was christened three times, with water from the Atlantic Ocean, the Connecticut River, and Hartford Spring. But since the christening of the USS Maine in 1890, champagne has been the holy water of choice.
May the tide that is entering even now the lip of our understanding carry you out beyond the face of fear may you kiss the wind then turn from it certain that it will love you back may you open your eyes to water water waving forever and may you in your innocence sail through this to that
—Lucille Clifton, Blessing the Boats
When I leave for a trip of any distance, by any mode of transportation, I have a whole series of little protective rituals to help get me from point A to point B in one piece. Before I leave my house, I bless myself on the back of my neck, a point of great vulnerability. I also bless my home, my animals, and my altars to be safe in my absence. I bless my car and my dashboard altar, as well as my dog and any other passengers or drivers. If I am flying, I bless myself the minute I get to the airport with a swig of vodka that I carry with me in an antique flask. And upon entering the plane, I bless that, too, as I casually rub its body with protection oil as I enter.
Though I fly, I soar, I zoom through the skies in my dreams and in my shamanic journeys, I am not a great flyer on planes. So when I do venture onto an aircraft, I always carry my precious amulet bag with me. This is a pink silk brocade Chinese packet filled to capacity with the charms and totems that inspire, calm, and empower me wherever I may be. Just feeling its considerable bursting-at-the-seams weight in my purse gives me confidence and a sense of security.
A few years ago, while waiting anxiously for a flight, I reached for my pocketbook only to discover, to my absolute horror, that I did not have my amulet bag with me. Oh no! Panic! What to do? I was determined to reassemble my amulets and recreate my altar in my mind. That way, I might still connect with and concentrate on its power. So I removed myself to the cocktail lounge, where I sat at a table and summoned up the contents of my travel altar one by one, then listed them in my notebook:
•A little tin airplane with a black silk tassel. The one my five-year-old niece told me was going to help me fly.
•A crow’s foot.
•A gold pin that says ritual.
•A piece of polished moose horn.
•A city stone.
•An Egyptian scarab.
•A lock of my dog’s hair.
•A crown feather from my bird.
•An amethyst pyramid to focus my intuitive senses.
•My rainbow crystal to channel light.
•A citrine crystal to mediate dark.
•A peonía seed for power.
•A cowry shell for creation.
•A worry doll to take away my fear.
•A copper-lidded jar filled with healing soil from Chimayó.
•Medals of Mother Goddesses.
•And so on.
Recalling each magical charm and sketching them on paper made me feel much better. There they were, all present and accounted for. I turned the list over and inscribed my affirmation on the other side:
I am safe.
I am calm.
I am centered.
I am at home in my heart.
I didn’t have a candle, so I lit a bar match to ignite my intentions, and I toasted them with another sip of vodka. Then I folded my list into my pocket and went to board my plane. I stepped into the skyway that afternoon with the same sacred calm and sense of cosmic rightness that I always feel after praying at my altar. I was connected and protected. And I actually enjoyed my flight.
I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.
—Maya Angelou
Travel can be a great adventure, but it can also be discombobulating. Once you get where you are going, you need shelter and sustenance, for your emotions and spirit, as well as for your physical requirements. If you are backpacking, tent or van camping, or traveling in a motor home, you can create any kind of ambience you want, making the space your own desired domain. This is not quite as easy when staying in a hotel, motel, hostel, dormitory, bed-and-breakfast, train, or ship cabin. Even if you are staying for just one night, you will want to occupy the space and feel comfortable and centered while you are there.
The same concepts and practices for creating a sacred space in your home also apply to making temporary domiciles homey. The canned air in planes and many motels doesn’t move, and neither does the energy, which gets stagnant and stultifying. If you are staying in a no smoking room you can’t burn any herbs to clear the air, but, again, a rose of Jericho is the perfect travel energy purifier. This tennis ball–sized dry plant can be packed in a Ziploc bag in even the smallest carry-on case. Put it in water when you first get to your room and it will open up and absorb any bad energy from past guests. Then when you are preparing to leave, take it out of the water, stick it back in the bag, and it will be ready to use again when you need it next.
There is great benefit in intentionally choosing what surrounds you. This includes how the furniture is positioned. It amazes me that in many “rooms with a view” the bed is set perpendicular to the window, or backed against it, so that the view you paid extra for is obscured. However, the opposite is too true, as well. The bed always seems to face the window if it looks out onto the parking lot or a mall or the freeway! I can’t count how many times I have spent the first half-hour in a hotel room rearranging the furniture. And it has been worth every second of effort to be able to relax in a room that feels right and offers something lovely to look at.
Simple gestures can create huge mood shifts. A picture of a dear one on the night table, an affirmation taped to the bathroom mirror, a crystal under your pillow, your journal, a favorite book, your own music playlist all elicit a sense of belonging and help you feel more connected to what’s truly meaningful in your life while you are separated from it. You can transform an anonymous, generic, or downright ugly decor with a couple of easy-to-pack scarves, shawls, or pashminas. A favorite scarf draped over a lamp shade, a shawl in a pleasing color laid out on a hideous couch or chair, or hung over the television or an awful painting, puts your aesthetic stamp on the surroundings, making you feel much more like yourself. If you bring a few spiritual items from your altars at home, you can set out a small version on top of the desk, dresser, or bathroom counter where you will see it. When I am in residence at a retreat center for some amount of time, I create more ornate altars incorporating candles, the contents of my amulet bag, and my ceremonial jewelry plus any lucky stones or pine cones I might find while there. And, of course, I smudge everything when I am allowed.
Even one simple hygge addition can transform any room into a welcoming personal space. A living plant or some flowers make any space more homey, as do animals. Some hotels will lend you a bowl of goldfish or even a cat to keep in your room. When my fairy-goddess daughter first came to spend the summers with me, she was three years old. To celebrate the occasion and make her visit special, I bought her a cheerful set of floral sheets to sleep on. They were for her and only for her. No one else who stayed in my guestroom used those sheets. And when, occasionally over the decades, the room was given over to a visitor for a few days, she happily made her bed on the couch using her own personal linens. Wherever she spread those sheets was home to her.
Wherever you stand, be the soul of that place.
—Rumi
In biblical times, when the Jews were wandering in the wilderness after being expelled from Egypt, they built a portable sanctuary, or mishkan, that they could carry with them wherever they went. Having such a mobile sacred space while traveling is wonderful, and it becomes so much more essential when the room you are staying in is not for work or fun, but for some unpleasant necessity—a stay in a hospital, nursing home, or hospice, for instance. Studies show that when the elderly are moved, not of their own desire, into a nursing home and out of their own home, they are more vulnerable to death due to the stress of homesickness. The patient’s dislike of the new nursing home seems to cancel out the better medical care that it can provide.
Even places such as these can be much more comforting, more supportive, and, ultimately, more healing by creating a nature-rich environment. Many long-term care establishments now have gardens to work or sit in for the huge pleasure of connecting with such a vibrant life force. Exposure to nature is healing for the spirit as well as the body. In 1984, a classic study found that patients recovered from surgery quicker if their hospital room looked out at a natural living environment compared to those who had no window or could only see a dead scene like a brick wall or a parking lot. Placing plants in hospital rooms also accelerates the rate of recovery, according to researchers at Kansas State University. Even posters depicting garden, forest, sky, or water scenes have a beneficial soothing effect.
Nature is not a place to visit, it is home.
—Gary Snyder
Institutional rooms can be made a great deal more pleasant if they reflect your aesthetic and spiritual sensibilities. Wearing your own pj’s rather than a hospital gown, using a favorite perfume, covering the bed with a handmade afghan from home, having a display of pictures and altar items that speaks to who you are and what you hold sacred can mean a world of difference in an anonymous, sterile setting. Most care facilities encourage taping cards and pictures to the wall, and many have instituted programs of visiting dogs and cats to add a cheering experience. When I shattered my wrist while on vacation in Maine, the hospital allowed me to bring my dog into the emergency room, where she lay on my chest while I was being treated. And later, when I had surgery, I was able to bring my amulet bag into the operating room. If all hospitals had these humane practices, there would be much less need for anxiety and pain meds.
There are other rooms in other institutions that are even more traumatic and disorienting. Imagine the stress of being forced to live in a jail cell, a homeless shelter, a displaced persons or refugee camp, where you are separated not just from home but from every aspect of life as you knew it. Millions of people have been forced out of their homes by natural disasters or human violence with only the clothes they are wearing and whatever they happen to have in their pockets. In an emergency there is no time to take anything with you that you want or might need, and prisoners are not permitted most personal belongings. Harsh, crowded settings like these may offer shelter, but there is no privacy, no quiet, no control.
In circumstances like these, your sacred altar mishkan needs to be conceptual. Home is where you are welcomed, valued, and supported. When you are denied these emotional comforts, you must find your home within yourself—your inner home, the container that houses the entire cache of spiritual support skills that you have cultivated over time. The home you occupy in your deepest soul center, your internal querencia, your mobile sitio, your connection to spirit, your home in the universe is all you have to help you survive such a nightmare. In these sorts of situations, you are the sacred space! Wherever you go, whatever you do can be holy.
Heading towards that inner home will take you places—both inside yourself and in the external world—which your heart will recognize as its native environment, even though you have never been there before.
—Martha Beck
Wherever you roam is home.
The words “blessing” and “blood” spring from the same root in the English language. This allows us to think of blessing as a life-giving blood-stream, a current of spiritual energy circulating through the universe.
—Brother David Steindl-Rast 99 Blessings: An Invitation to Life
