This is my welcome home altar. It's placed exactly in the middle of my 12 meter long living room. I recently placed it there and at night I light it up like this. From left to right: a (battery) candle lighting up a cristal angel a friend I lost touch with bought for me in Croatia; a tea candle in a Himalayan salt rock, which I bought after the vet refused to euthanize my ex's rats; a bright pink, long candle on a Dutch gin bottle, which of course, I drank with company; a tea candle in a crystal rock bought instinctively after feeling its energy (I was searching for soothing clarity); a (battery) candle lighting up a little white monk covering his mouth, a conscious reminder that I should talk less. Then the trail of lights which I bought in Lyon, wrapped around a branch I picked up in the dunes after a beautiful summer day with friends. Finally, the red dots climbing up come from an IKEA projection lamp, a gift from an ex-lover who managed to crack my heart. The Buddhas on the wall, that was a gift from an intimate friend who had it specially painted for me in Bali. There are other things hiding in the shadows... mostly little gifts of friends, stones, sea shells, coins, a wooden praying monk adorned with dry rose buds and a Buddhist mala; and a wooden heart-shaped bowl containing angel cards (my regular visitors always make their pick). I just put up that mirror, which I picked up from the street. Ever since I made this change, I feel so much more grateful every time I enter my home. And as I write this back story, I realize that every single object in that altar has a meaning because it has a story. And that is what abundance is for me: to feel grateful for the richness of the tiniest of things. And to rejoice in the memories it offers me.