Home is where the heart is
Home is where I lay my head
home is where I hang my hat
What is "home?"
I have thought about this concept various times of late as a result of my friend moving from San Francisco and other friends leaving their houses as a result of divorce. Then I read this crafted by Princess Banter.
For me, home is where I am. I grew up in the house in which my parents still live. I do not refer to it as "my parent's house" but do call it "home." It is more of a historical reference. I know I can go back. I know my daughter can find a home there as well. Even though there is little of either of us in the house, it is still a home as there is a lot of love within the walls. We are completely welcome to occupy the space.
I also know that my home is where I am; where my heart is. It is where my mind can rest, my heart can sing or cry, or laugh. It is where my body can find a sense of peace and... stillness.
But I am not sure that home is my house. My house is walls and rooms. Places to hang pictures and a shelter from the storm. The walls and carpet absorb tears, laughter, conversations, and serve as witness to the situations that occur within my life. But is a house a home?
I am not sure if home is about the building or if it is about the way one feels in a certain location. Perhaps home can be found anywhere when the body and soul feel that "just right" feeling. It is like trying on a new pair of shoes. Sometimes they fit just so... and you know they are the right fit. Maybe there are cities and towns, states and countries, beaches and mountains, that attract and pull us to them allowing us to find a sense of well being and comfort in their midst.
For some I know home is about family. It is about living in the same area, seeing one another often, having that comfort that comes when one knows that there is someone watching your back. For others it is about returning to where they grew up - home is that town, those memories. Some strive to raise a family in such an environment, wanting their kids to have a similar experience or home that they, the parents, knew and loved.
Many friends have asked why I live 2100 miles away from my family? How can I choose to build my life so far from what they feel is most important for them and for their kids, etc... family. It is largely to be near family that my friend just moved from San Francisco. She wanted her son to grow up near family.
I am not a person who finds home near family. For me, perhaps, home is more of a state of mind and heart. Home might be within me - I take it with me wherever I go - like a snail or a turtle.
Home lives with in me. It is the love that I feel from my friends and family; the support. It is the knowledge that I can go anywhere in the world and still feel a sense of home. I have celebrated holidays with new friends and strangers. I have moved all over the country comfortably. Throughout it all, I have felt that home within me.
There are places in which I feel more comfortable than others. There are definitely places I would rather not live. In the end, though, I could live just about anywhere and find myself at home.