All I needed really was a photo of a house for your veiwing pleasure. I'm happy to have found this.
A Moon House.
In addition to being a place of shelter, the house had a cosmological meaning for the Haida, who thought of the house as a very large box and often decorated its walls to coincide with the images used on boxes. The concept of boxes within boxes is central to Haida beliefs about containers and the spiritual beings who safeguard their precious contents.
Can coming home ever be easy when you've already ventured out? How much you've traveled makes for a new home when you arrive, don't you think? My home is filled to the brim and what I've brought back with me is hard placed to settle. I'm not sensing it's good to ignore the messes that need my time and attention. So that means work. My house is my work.
Everyone needs to get back to work. I have my sense of belonging from my work/my home, but it has been stifled by a naive acceptance. I am not my work/my home, but the work of my home can benefit from who I am now. My house needs to be in harmony with what is real in the world and in me.
The change in me is good. I am wise to hold on to the good. I have a large house through which I manuever my daily living. It's too large. That's why there are changes happening this coming year. What once was an identity through aquiring more has now become a contentment with simplicity. My Old Order is inhospitable to my New Order. Reminds me of that certain parable Jesus told. Not only is it through humility the younger son comes home, but also with great courage. No one will relate to him the same way again.
I am at home in prayer and hopeful about new possibilites.
But the coming home will never be the same.