The act of giving says as much about ourselves as it does about our relationship with others. Giving requires us imagining the perspective of the recipient. What would they enjoy receiving? What are their favourite things and their preferences? It requires us being observant, present in the physical sense to their likes and dislikes. This is easier for people we spend time with each day and those we have a loving relationship with.

The art of giving speaks about our generosity. It doesn’t matter whether it requires money or the gifting of our time and resources. Whatever we give says volumes about our relationship and connection with others. Giving also speaks of our family traditions and the wish to create lasting memories with our loved ones. It identifies our ability to judge the needs of others.

We accumulate memories of giving and receiving of gifts over our lifetime. I have lovely memories of extended family Christmas Days as a child. Our family joining with aunts, uncles and cousins and our beloved grandmother. Nanna had been shopping for small gifts throughout the year. After all the other gifts were distributed she would bring out an old brown suitcase brimming with small parcels to distribute. Her little symbols of her love for us all were a highlight of Christmas Day.  I also remember staying awake as an older child long enough to see mum and dad place our gifts at the end of our beds. They had waited until they thought we had fallen asleep. I was tempted to take a peek to feel the shape and texture of the parcels within the Santa sack.

As adults the gifting of physical gifts changed. We became the givers of gifts rather than the recipients. It was a joy to watch our children open presents they had placed on their own Christmas list.  As they got older the gift requests became more specific and expensive. It became a difficult dilemma to cater for expanded tastes on Santa’s budget. Their realization that mum and dad were the actual givers of the gifts changed the dynamic of gifting. They were then invited into the true meaning of Christmas – the ability to give to others in a meaningful way.

“We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give.”

Winston S. Churchill.

When we think of gifting to others it is important to ask ourselves what the recipient really needs. In a year where people have been emotionally and physically stretched it may be the less tangible needs that take priority.

• Being cared for and allowing for the opportunity to take downtime to relax and recharge.
• Contributing to a family’s bills or assisting financially with the needs of others.
• Helping families with Christmas gifts and celebration. Creating a special time over the Christmas period.
• Connecting with others and providing a listening ear so they can process the challenging year that has been.
• Physical assistance around the home.

Whatever our gifting to others becomes, spending time to observe what may really be required is important. Perhaps it is less about spending money this Christmas Season and more about truly connecting and supporting each other in meaningful ways. What do you consider important in giving to others? Comment below.

If ‘ home is where the heart is’ mine is scattered far and wide geographically. I seem to have lost my roots to a physical place after so many moves, although I have a strong affinity toward my birthplace. Now, home is where I gather with the people I love and those who, in return, love and appreciate me.

It’s uncomfortable choosing between places and people, yet that has become my lot at this time in my life. I’m the gypsy who has physical addresses in different locations. Regularly explaining myself and my transient life. The only valid choice for me right now is to go with my heart and intuition to craft a life that flows with personal meaning. A life that I refuse to regret. A life where I am fully immersed in relationships with those around me.

“Home wasn’t a set house, or a single town on a map. It was wherever the people who loved you were, whenever you were together. Not a place, but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take with you for your entire life, wherever you may go.”

Sarah Dessen

The funny thing about our sense of ‘home’ is that it evolves over time. Some of our homes are chosen for us, particularly when we are children. If our family stays long enough in one place these spaces hold many memories, good or bad, that remain within us. We can reminisce about sibling shenanigans, shared family occasions and special places of comfort that we knew we could retreat to.

 As each of us venture into the world, our physical home may change more frequently. It may be a temporary accommodation near study or work. A shared home or one we craft on our own. If we are in relationship with someone, the personal tastes and style of each person meshes together to form a space that reflects the people within.

A few years ago, the home I share with my husband underwent a major renovation. The only time I truly saw the transformation process was when it was internally guttered from one end to the other. In that moment, I lost a sense of belonging and connection to it. Extraordinary, as I had been involved in the dreaming and decision making about the changes, yet unlike my husband I wasn’t physically on site every day to watch them emerge.

My disconnection didn’t improve when the renovation was complete. I fought with the constant feeling of living in what felt to me like a display home. Every new appliance was a challenge and the architectural changes felt energetically foreign to me. I soon realized that this revised home was crafted for my husband’s tastes and I had difficulty putting my presence within the rooms and outdoor space.

Two of the bedrooms were set up for visitors. My heart hoping they would be used by family. Yet the tyranny of the 1,000-kilometre distance between their homes and ours meant visits to us were few and far between. It’s challenging to travel long distances with young families so our guest rooms remained unused. This created a growing sadness within me as I walked past them each day.

Family visits, without my husband by my side, became more frequent to the point that I could see opportunities to be closer to our children and grandchildren who lived in the same location. A location that also happened to be my beloved birthplace community. Chances emerged to play ‘nanna’ and to offer care and additional transport when needed.

I made the decision to move nearer to our family, a time I have cherished. Setting up a rental home that truly reflected my own tastes. Two years later, I am once again in transition in regard to where I live.  Our daughter and her family are moving to a new location. My heart and my sense of ‘home’ is feeling a need to expand once more.

What have I learnt about creating home where my heart is?

• The pain of inaction can easily destroy you. If intuitively a move of home feels like it will heal your heart have the courage to go for it.
• The decision may not be permanent, as very few things are. Life will take you in surprising directions and provide creative solutions along the way. Trust in the timing of your life.
• If your home doesn’t feel a reflection of you – whether décor or the relationships within, do something about it. We have one wild and precious life says poet, Mary Oliver. Use it wisely. Broach your discomfort, have the difficult conversations, and find ways to create your own unique sense of belonging.

Let ‘home’ be more than a physical address. Let it be a collection of moments that build upon each other. Create an energetic space where you feel a sense of connection and love. If you are grounded to a physical home that continues to nurture and grow with you, wonderful. But if you are like me and home doesn’t seem to exist in a one physical space, have the courage to meaningfully create it in conjunction with those you love.