Two of the best poets who ever lived have already made my latest point beautifully, so I’m going to let them remind us of something especially meaningful to a lot of Americans right now:

Where thou art, that is home. – Emily Dickinson

I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself. – Maya Angelou

Yes.

If you’re on the verge of losing your home, you probably don’t want to hear that you can make a home anywhere. But you need to, because how this turns out resides with you -- your mindset, your expectations, your ability to go deep and see what you’re made of. And if you have a significant other and/or children affected by this, your mission is that much more profound.

We hear a lot these days about what constitutes the American dream. Owning a house is always an assumed part of that rosy picture. I suppose that’s innocent enough on first glance, but on second glance, is it really? For everybody? Every single body? Even the folks who can’t afford it or don’t want it?

I do not understand this American need to make it as easy as possible for people to buy homes, regardless of income level. Owning a home is a privilege you earn, not a right that comes with citizenship. And what’s with the rush to home ownership anyway? I think we’ve made it a “should” to be considered adult in America, when actually adulthood is better measured by living within one’s means in a lifestyle that feels harmonious.

In one of my favorite books, "Eat, Pray, Love," author Elizabeth Gilbert takes the reader on a journey in which she leaves behind the societal-mandated path of marriage/house/children after much painful deliberation. Her truth-filled story continues to resonate with many readers, as it is currently in its staggering 109th week on The New York Times Best Sellers list.

“We’d only just bought this house a year ago,” Gilbert writes just pages into the book. “Hadn’t I wanted this nice house? Hadn’t I loved it? So why was I haunting its halls every night now, howling like Medea?”

Because it wasn’t the right fit, the right life, the right mandate.

Just as the loss of a job forces us to look at what we want to do with the rest of our lives, the loss of a house gives us a chance to cultivate our definition of home. I, for example, am a happy renter who loves the independence of not having a lawn to tend. But I know many people who yearn for grass, enjoy making it lush and green, and would feel deprived without it.

And while that is arguably an accoutrement, it gets to the heart of what makes us tick and what makes us feel rich. Hearing a close friend say I have “created a nest” in my spacious one-bedroom apartment with its high ceilings makes my heart sing. My American dream has never included a picket fence or lots of rooms I have to dust. To me, if my place is too clean, it means I’m not living life to its fullest.

I have coached clients with a variety of home goals and I always stress the importance of knowing what they really want before committing the goal to paper and subsequent action. If you think it would be great to see Paris once before you die, then you’re going to have very different priorities from someone who wants to jet to Europe at least annually. While travel or other social considerations might sound like a luxury to Americans in financial peril right now, this is still the time to assess.

Are you more terrified of losing the structure you now occupy or the life you get to lead while living in it? Have you decided to live “house poor” because your decisions are being influenced by others’ opinions of you and your lifestyle? If you have to scale down from a four-bedroom home to a two-bedroom apartment, it’s important to know what you’re striving for once you work your way back. Was that the right home for you? If so, why? If not, what wasn’t working?

I grew up in a lovely suburban neighborhood in a four-bedroom cape. It was my parents’ dream realized and I am so proud of them for working to give my siblings and me that experience. Once in my 30s, I found I out am better suited to urban life and I have worked hard to live my dream, surrounded by a few things I treasure and what feels like the world right outside my doorstep.

That is our challenge, our calling. Making a home anywhere we are.

Now that is the American dream.

Nancy Colasurdo is a practicing life coach and freelance writer. Her Web site is www.nancola.com. Please direct all questions/comments to FOXGamePlan@gmail.com.