Home & Happiness... why do I keep looking outward?

It is so easy to get caught up in thinking about the things we want, isn't it?  None of us on this planet have everything we want.  NONE of us.  Even the super-rich, I would bet, are striving for that which is not yet within their grasp or control.  To be taller, to own more, to rid themselves of a troublesome adversary or health problem or habit.  It's a lonely place this land of 'wanting' even though traffic on its streets is gridlocked.

I have been wanting. I have been aching for a new place to live, somewhere, I believe, that will fill me with inspiration and calmness.  Somewhere I can put down roots and develop into a homestead.  I have been both excited and frustrated at the search.  I have exhausted myself by cleaning, renovating, painting and updating all in an effort to ready my house for the eyes of strangers.  I have been hunting with vigour to find that new set of walls, only to be disappointed day after day.  I have been consumed by wanting.

But didn't I just go through this?  Didn't I, at the very end of 2010 conclude that the grass isn't greener someplace else?  I did.  I went to the south of France and came home thankful for what I have.  My little house, my family, my neighbourhood.  How fickle I am.

Last night my daughter told me about a boy in her school who had just lost his mother.  I wouldn't go on from here, for this is tragic enough - a young man about to embark on adulthood losing a foundational piece to his life is enough to remind us that we ought to be thankful for the life in our bodies and stop wanting for so much more.  However this boy's story contains another detail that bears consideration:  his mother was the last family he and his sister had.  He is living with a friend's parents now and his younger sister will be put into foster care.

My heart hurts writing it.

I have told my daughter that if we can do anything we will do it.  This might provide a stop over for this boy, however it won't change the fact that he must carry on now - along with his sister - without that feeling of being rooted anywhere in particular. They will not have a confidante the likes of which a mother is - ever again.  I cannot imagine the loneliness of looking out into the world as a teenager and not knowing where home is.

Maybe I will give up the search for a new home now.  My home is here.  what, exactly, do I think lies elsewhere?  200 additional square feet?  Who cares.  We have each other here.  Our roots have begun to grow here.  I will stop wanting for that which I don't have and start spending my energy on loving what I do.  If by chance the perfect home appears to us, well then we will go there.  Until now, perfect is right here.