07/21/2026
The Long Way Home
By Lisa Betz-Marquez
The heat has been relentless.
People are quick to anger. Patience feels distant. Grace, often nowhere to be found.
Lately, I’ve sensed a crackling in the air.
Whether it’s the heat, economic uncertainty, politics, or something else entirely, I couldn’t say. It’s something I’ve noticed.
Lately, life has been quietly reminding me that what matters most is often found in the smallest moments.
My mom broke her wrist a couple of months ago. Thankfully, she’s healing well, but the experience reminded me that the people we love become more precious with every passing year. Ordinary afternoons together have become something to savor instead of something to assume.
I’ve been thinking about Heartsong, too. About the atmosphere I’m creating. I hope the room itself holds a quiet presence that invites a slower breath, a softening of shoulders, and a quiet setting down of whatever the day has asked us to carry.
This morning, before the heat settled over everything, I sat on the porch with my coffee. Two rabbits bounded through the grass, taking turns leaping over one another. The birds were singing. The bluffs were there, as they have been for thousands of years. Before long, Patches curled into my lap, claiming his dose of love.
Despite the world’s concerns—the economy, the climate, the politics—the birds are singing. The bluffs are there. Patches wants his dose of love. The rabbits are playing, reminding me that no matter what is taking place around me, there is room for playfulness.
Sometimes delight is reason enough to carry us home to our hearts.
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About The Long Way Home
The Long Way Home is a place for quiet reflections on everyday life—stories of nature, healing, community, and the small moments that shape us in ways we don’t always recognize at the time.
I hope these essays invite you to slow down, look a little closer, and discover that sometimes the longest journey is the one that leads us home to our hearts.