Webster's definition for Home:
"One's place of residence; a familiar or usual setting; a place of origin
"One's place of residence; a familiar or usual setting; a place of origin
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I went Home to visit my Mama. The place that no matter how long you've been away is always waiting for you with open arms. And I'm not talking about my Mama ~ it's the house. Perhaps it has absorbed my Mama's energies and you can feel "it" around you.
After moving out I went on to have 'the apartment', 'the house', 'the condo' but none ever earned the title of Home no matter how big, small, or beautiful. They had no 'feeling', they were as blank as half the people in a crowded subway train. So it's funny how fast I started calling my existing home, Home. I hadn't noticed it until my sister pointed it. Telling me how much I speak of Home and that I have surrounded myself with things I love. Unlike the previous abodes where she said it looked like I lived in a hotel. I guess I never put down roots; always feeling like I had to run.
It makes me think of that saying "wearing your heart on your sleeve". Those that you never have to wonder how they're feeling because if it's not obvious they'll tell you. And although I'm very (VERY) open here, I'm not in person. And it's finally occurred to me that I don't wear my heart on my sleeve. I wear it in my Home. If you look at my surroundings it's rather easy to tell how I'm feeling inside. Orderly usually means I'm feeling calm, Messy means my thoughts are jumbling, Sparse means I'm feeling the urge to run and don't want to be tied down. Funny how shallow I can be. Funnier that nobody knows this except you.
Coming back Home from Mama's I realized that I have unconsciously recreated little snippets of that Home. Pieces of that garden or the way the light shines in. Even recreating a little wrought iron/brick. It's the little things. But I think the most important one is the love I feel here. Do you know how hard it is buying a house based on 'feeling' instead of what it looks like?
After all these years I finally learned that this is the 'home' definition that most fits:
"in harmony with the surroundings"
I'm so happy to hear that you are HOME! Although I have my home I tend to hope for OZ someday. Ah oh, did I say that out loud?
ReplyDeleteIt's true that there is "no place like home"!!
ReplyDeleteI love how you have the brick and wrought iron at your own home that is reminiscent of your childhood home!! For me, I think that my mom was "home"---that place where they love you and take care of you no matter what!!!
And the story begins.... you need a good foundation a setting for us to start from... can you feel me pushing you my dear?
ReplyDeletewhether you're wearing your heart on your sleeve, or in your home (or on your hand....), home is definitely the best place to be.....as told to me by a pigtail-braided girl wearing a blue gingham dress carrying a picnic basket with a little dog inside (and last seen hanging out with a scarecrow, tin man, and lion)....xox, :))
ReplyDeleteSweet post. Has me thinking.
ReplyDeleteWhat a touching story Elena ~ Made me think of my own roots this morning!
ReplyDeleteCrystal
I personally connect with your words, Elena. I've never had my own place really since I moved out of parent's house, apartments,college dorm, living with other people, now an apartment again. There's this restless piece of me that doesn't allow me to settle down, like there's more and if I stop in one place too long, a piece of me dies, like I'll be trapped. Still, I'll surround myself with my art, little playful pieces, etc. Those tokens help ground me to my heart and quell the restlessness a bit.
ReplyDeleteLove the house your mom lives in, I want to walk up those steps. I felt very cozy at your place when I visited it. And you seemed very natural and comfortable that day.
Comfortable in your heart that's all that matters.....