Home.

(hōm) n. – A place where one lives; a residence. / An environment offering security and happiness.

Home is where you lay your head at night. Home is where you feel safe and secure in all that is around you.

Describe home. Smelly Car and Merrick Butte.

Is it where you hang your hat at night? Is it where you keep your belongings? Is it a physical place? Or a feeling?? I’ve been struggling for awhile trying to figure out what home is. At this very moment, I haven’t a fucking clue where or what “home” is. I just know where I am is not home. Where I live, apartment and city, is not my home. I don’t feel this is the place for me. I don’t know if I ever have.

“Home is people. Not a place. If you go back there after the people are gone, then all you can see is what is not there any more.”
― Robin Hobb, Fool’s Fate

I definitely think that home IS where you place your head at night and where you surround yourself with comforts but I think that place is constantly changing, as we humans are. It is that tranquility and peace that envelopes you and makes you feel safe. THAT is home.

It doesn’t matter if your home happens to be a manse or a lean-to. If that’s your ideal, awesome. I’m happy in a barn or a tent. My favourite place to stay on the road is my car. I can feel at ease in your giant oversized, second mortgaged ideal but I prefer the cozy feeling of a cabin or a tiny a-frame tree fort.

“Nature is not a place to visit. It is home.”
― Gary Snyder

Desert roadSo what do you do when you don’t feel like you have a home?? I have an apartment. It’s a great place: amazing views, stunning floors, spacious. It’s where I keep my belongings (not many might I add) but it doesn’t feel like my home. My home is the road. It’s as though I am returning by instinct to my territory after leaving it… my home… the road. I NEED to be there.

Each day I wake on the road, open to new possibilities and each night, I lay my head on a pillow (mine from my apartment) and I am once again home. Home, for me, is internal. When I am at peace with myself, I am home. I am most at peace on the road.

“Where thou art, that is home.”
― Emily Dickinson

-Devon

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This entry was posted in change, changing, Control, desert, Happy, life, roadtrip, spiritual, Travel and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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