My house is a very calm and beautiful place and is full of

Hear the gentle yet powerful words of Chris de Burgh: “My house is a very calm and beautiful place and is full of positive energy.” These words remind us that the dwelling of a person is more than walls and roof; it is the reflection of the soul, the sanctuary of the spirit, the vessel in which peace may either flourish or wither. A house is not sacred because of its size or its treasures, but because it becomes the ground where harmony dwells and where one draws strength to face the battles of the world.

To call a house calm is to say that it has been purified of chaos, that the storms of life are left at the threshold, and within its walls reigns stillness. Calmness is no small treasure—for in calmness the heart heals, the mind clears, and the body regains its strength. Many chase wealth or power, yet what good are they without the refuge of a calm home? The ancients knew this truth, for they spoke of hearth and home as sacred, a place where the spirit of the household gods kept watch, guarding harmony within.

To call a house beautiful is not only to speak of decoration or adornment, but of the deeper beauty that flows from order, light, and love. A hut lit with kindness may be more beautiful than a palace filled with cruelty. Beauty in the home is born from the presence of gratitude, from the bonds of love between those who share it, and from the deliberate cultivation of peace. Thus, beauty becomes not an ornament but a source of strength, for it nourishes the soul as bread nourishes the body.

And to say that a house is filled with positive energy is to declare that it is alive with harmony, hope, and joy. This is the invisible essence that transforms mere shelter into sanctuary. It is felt in laughter shared at the table, in music that lifts the heart, in words of encouragement spoken in quiet rooms. Positive energy flows where kindness abides, where forgiveness is practiced, and where those who enter feel lighter than when they arrived. Such energy lingers like incense, shaping the spirit of all who dwell within.

History gives us many examples of such sanctuaries. Consider the home of Mahatma Gandhi, humble and austere, yet radiant with positive energy. In that modest dwelling, people from across the world found calmness, inspiration, and courage to pursue peace. Its power was not in grandeur but in spirit; it was a beautiful place because it reflected a soul devoted to truth and nonviolence. That home, like de Burgh’s words, reminds us that a dwelling infused with peace can become a light for far more than those who live inside.

The lesson for us is clear: our houses are mirrors of our spirits. If our homes are chaotic, filled with anger, or burdened with bitterness, then we carry that energy into the world. But if we fill our homes with calmness, beauty, and positivity, then we nurture ourselves and radiate strength to others. To create such a sanctuary is not vanity—it is necessity. For every warrior of life must return to a place of rest, where wounds can heal and the heart can be restored.

Practical actions flow from this wisdom. Tend to your home as you would tend to a sacred garden. Keep it orderly, for disorder breeds unrest. Fill it with light—whether through sunlight, music, or laughter. Speak words of kindness within its walls, so that they echo and linger. Create spaces for rest, for gratitude, and for joy. In so doing, you weave calmness into the very fabric of your dwelling, and it will repay you with strength for all the journeys beyond its doors.

So remember Chris de Burgh’s counsel: “My house is a very calm and beautiful place and is full of positive energy.” Let this not only be his truth, but yours. Build your home as a temple of peace, a refuge of beauty, and a reservoir of positivity. Then, when you step into the world, you will carry that energy with you, and all who meet you will feel the harmony of your dwelling flowing through your very being.