No Place Like Home?

Brave, gotta call it brave to chase that dream across the sea. Names, then they signed their names for something they believed. Red, how the blood ran red; we laid our dead in sacred ground. Just think, wonder what they’d think if they could see us now. ~ Dierks Bentley

Click, click, click. I was walking through the magical land of Toys “R” Us with my parents one night when all of the sudden something glittery and red on a low shelf caught an eye behind my large pink glasses. It was a pair of slip-on heels with red bows across the toes. I reached for the sparkling ruby slippers which were just my size, bound up in Wizard of Oz packaging. I had never seen anything like them, and they may as well have been made of real rubies. In all actuality, they were plastic and designed for a little girl to dance and prance around in; not actually wear out anywhere, much to my chagrin. It was the first pair of shoes I remember buying, and I was tickled pink! This purchase by my seven year old self was made possible from an allowance after helping out with chores at home. Right then and there I became head over heels for red shoes, and the affinity remains. Isn’t it amazing how seemingly insignificant moments in childhood can have a lasting impact…

(…continued from above…) While those Dorothy shoes may have transported me somewhere over the rainbow, my childhood memories of The Wizard of Oz movie were not as endearing. The Wicked Witch of the West and her flying monkeys were slightly traumatizing for a sensitive little girl. But I never let that green-with-envy witch steal my joy for life, or my ruby slippers. Those shoes were a staple in my dress-up wardrobe at home. I wore those red shoes all over the house with any outfit, regardless if it matched or not. When I re-watched The Wizard of Oz prior to the release of the Wicked movie, I laughed at the witch. With the passing of time, she had totally lost her aura of scariness. Ah, growing up. It’s a two edged sword that can give you courage over ideas that used to frighten you, but also steal your sense of wonder about life. I think about this phenomenon often, but especially at Christmastime.

The holidays are just around the corner of the harvested cornfields on my road back home. With three clicks of our heels, and maybe a short drive or a long flight, many of us will soon be spending some extended time in the space where no other place compares. Home. Maybe we’re all grown up now and following the road back to our childhood home…the place where time seems to stand still; where life seems the most unchanged, even though we have expanded our minds with our coming of age. Now that we’re grown, we make our own decisions in our own homes, and help make even grander decisions for our national homeland. Our reality has opened up to a myriad of responsibilities and financial decisions much bigger than our childhood chore lists and budgets for whatever our little hearts desired from the toy store. Does the gravity of this make the holidays seem less wonderful than days gone by when we were footloose and fancy free?

Sometimes the journey back home feels like opening a time capsule. Oh, the familiarity of it all. The red barn, yellow fields, and green tractor in the distance always give cause for pause. The dog runs over to welcome me back as I call out “hello!” to the flowers waving their greetings from the garden. Inside abide the toys my sisters and I used to play with, the distinct smell of the house, and the people I love all gathered together. It’s a comforting feeling to go home where you know what to expect and you can somewhat be a kid again. But as great as it all is, change is still inevitable. Loved ones have passed on and aren’t present to share in the celebrations anymore. Families go through splits. Homes get remodeled, both physically and figuratively. Our eyeglasses lose their rosy hue after life comes along and pops the perfectly pink bubble we were living in, waking us up to less than idealistic realities. The political stage is dividing us evermore, AI is changing us for better or worse, and goodness knows we’re aging faster than seems possible. Can we leave all of that for the birds and resume feasting on grandma’s homemade pie of apple deliciousness?

While this time of year is exciting for many, not everyone will be going to their “no place like home” for the holidays. Many people with all kinds of painful life stories are searching for some semblance of home. Still others find this to be a blue time of year while watching the typical red and green merriment unfold in a “Silver Bells” kind of scene. The holidays are always an excellent time to remind ourselves to show grace and love in our interactions. Looking around at the state of our country and our world, we need empathy for each other. It’s the main idea that marvelous itinerant preacher challenged us to some 2,000 years ago. Love one another. Could it really be that simple? Is love simple? Is loathing those who are different our subconscious default setting? These are the ponderings in my thought balloon as I’m fighting off these early winter blues.

One particular moment in the Wicked movie stole my breath away. (Ok, let’s be honest, this was the case every time the music opened.) SPOILER ALERT. In a crowded room, one girl who is unpopular in every way is ridiculed until another girl steps out and welcomes her to the party; green skin, hideous hat, bizarre dance and all. One person’s kindness in defiance of mockery changes the narrative in the entire room. Seemingly small acts of acceptance have great power, and I was so moved by this message on the silver screen.

If I could, I’d click my red glitter boots and make this world a “no place like home” kind of existence. But life isn’t a fairy tale musical (although it would be much better if it was. Ha!) Choosing to love isn’t always popular. In line at the store, on long days at work, at holiday gatherings, on social media, and among those searching for belonging whom people point out to be “the outsiders” it takes courage and effort. As much as we believe in love…it’s not simple, nor is it a mere sentimental notion caught up in the notes of a grand orchestral arrangement. Love is a challenge to us all to walk an unfamiliar path in someone else’s shoes. It’s a prism’s point of view staring us down, daring us to look it’s way and shine the light of empathy as we dance our way through life. This world may often feel like a house flying through the sky, but I believe we can defy hatred, and brick by brick build a road that leads to Home...

Free, nothing feels like free, though it sometimes means we don’t get along. ‘Cause same, no we’re not the same, but that’s what makes us strong…It’s been a long hard ride, and I won’t lose hope. This is still the place that we all call home. ~ Dierks Bentley