Thoughts on the definition of home...

I've found myself a bit homesick lately, which has come as a quite a surprise. Not that I didn't expect these feelings to come and go at irregular intervals, but because when I was back "home" I didn't really love it the way I thought I would. And I really wasn't that upset about leaving it and coming back to the new "home". And I've been wondering about the nature of "home" and if it's really the place/people I'm missing (though there are places and people that I do definitely miss), or if it's more the feelings that being "at home" bring about. 

Being known by people who've known you for years and still love you anyway. Feeling normal or at least not out of place. Walking into a shop or cafe where friends are waiting for you. Knowing exactly what you want to order/buy and exactly how much it'll cost you. Living under the same light as everyone else - no spotlight, no magnifying glass that burns your skin when pointed right at you. Feeling the freedom to make slight mistakes without the resulting feeling of complete failure.

Whatever it is, there's a feeling in my chest that's growing sore. I can't put an exact finger on it, determine the cause, or prescribe an effective antidote, but it's there and leaving me weary.

So my new rule with a sobering post is to also reflect on a praiseworthy thing (see below). My praiseworthy thing this week: over this past year, the definite recognition of one new friend, who came over for tea last night. It may seem small to you, but it is a huge, praiseworthy thing for me. 

 

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