MY HOME

​November 11th, 2025 

My home is spacious. 

    With soft sheep's-wool rugs,

Warm overhead lights,

An intricate hand-meshed mosaic at the entrance floor,

My home is heated with love.

My home is safe. 

My home has depth. 

Character. 

Everything in it was intentionally chosen.

My home has beautiful wooden doors, like those found in Zanzibar. 

Console tables cut from petrified wood. 

I have a garden full of terracotta pots and blooming plants. 

I can ask for anything I want in my home. 

I can ask for my needs to be met, I can ask for support to be extended, I can ask for affection to be provided, and I can share that warmth back. 

My home is fueled by ritual - I practice them with intention, because they give me meaning.

My home smells like vanilla, and sandalwood, and vetiver, and star anise. 

I play with my cat and my rabbit. 

My home is filled with friends who love me. 

My friends are kind to me, they demonstrate safety, and care, and we trust one another. 

My home holds crevices full of my sensibilities. 

My work is a reflection of my values. 

It is neither mindless or pointless. 

My home has a room available for someone kind, and thoughtful, and serious. 

My home sits on a strong foundation, one that I benchmarked myself. 

I demolished the old one.

I dusted, and wiped everything clean. 

I made sure it was free of shame, and guilt, and filth. 

In the slab, I etched the following: 

Resilience, reciprocity, honesty, integrity, and reverence. 

From that, everything else was built. 

These are the blueprints of the home I am building for myself. 

- vetiveroil