It is the feeling of knowing you are no longer alone. It is the surprise at someone else putting shape and structure to your thoughts. It is discovering that others have gone and lit the way ahead – you just need to find that first lantern, lamppost or shining crystal.

This is Hutchmoot Homebound and oh how I am longing to go to a real one, an in-person one with long corridor talks and face-to-face meals. Yet even through a screen, I found a new home. A different home. Not Keswick, which is home because of love born from familiarity. Not the Fens, born out of childhood memories and sunsets. Not like my town because it is where I live and invest. Not church, where I have been welcomed as a long-lost friend.

No, Hutchmoot is home simply because we speak the same language. That weird and wonderful language that all people speak when they don’t stop at reason and logic. Part of me wants to say it was like someone was sharing my brain, so much did they give structure to my thoughts.

As I drew closer, I really began to worry I wouldn’t fit in. After all, my career is not as a storyteller, artist or musician. Not to mention the fact that as an INFP, type 4, and just being me, finding a place where I fit is hard. There is always a part that sticks out at a weird angle. But I have this feeling that amongst the other rabbits, there are many who feel that they have parts that stick out at odd angles too. Whatever the case is, that feeling disappeared so quickly.

It was replaced by a far greater one that I thought I had lost: the desire to create. My fingers were getting so itchy to type that I had to “leave” the conference and actually finish a hard blog post. My Instagram daily photographs became more structured and purposeful, not rushed or incidental. I even started to think about my Harley Quinn account and taking some photographs for that again.

Amidst all the talks, stories, music, art and community of Hutchmoot, I was introduced to a part of me I lost during the pandemic. She doesn’t look the same, with bruises and a tired look from fighting her way back to me, but she is my creativity; oh how I now know I have missed her. Hutchmoot lit the way for her to come back, clearing away the COVID debris. For that reason alone, but also so many more, thank you Hutchmoot Homebound.

Text reads: Home is where you speak the same language - Thank you Hutchmoot Homebound. Image shows: a pine sapling in a pot on a window.