Staying Home (Literally) ☕🏠

☕ 🪑 🏠

Today I’m writing about staying home.
Not spiritually.
Just… literally.

Lately, “home” hasn’t been a concept.
It’s been a plan. 🗓️

A time to sit down.
A chair I come back to. 🪑
A kitchen where something will be made —
even if I haven’t decided what yet. 🍳

Chicken alfredo. 🍝
Or seitan. 🌱
Or maybe peanut butter blossoms again. 🍪

I don’t actually need to decide yet.
I just like knowing there will be dinner
and that I’ll be here when it happens. 🏠

I’m learning that without a rhythm, I don’t rest —
I drift. 🌊 Quietly.
Like I’m technically around, but not fully here.

So, I’m choosing routine.
Not the strict kind.
The kind that makes room. 🤍

Same writing time. ⏰

Same mug. ☕

Same seat. 🪑

Not because I’m trying to improve myself —
but because I want to be available
when real life shows up. ✨

That’s what staying home looks like right now.
Not a breakthrough.
Not a metaphor.

Just showing up again. 🤍

☕ ✧ ☁️ ✧ ☕