Maybe home is not necessarily a place, it can be a person or a moment; and for me I think I’ve enjoyed many moments-of-home, but I’m still waiting and searching.
I’ve been doing some travelling recently and in general I’ve been going around quite a lot. Just this year I’ve moved house three times and in a six months or so, when second year of University will be over, I’ll be transferring to another city (and country, and continent) again.
In all this going and coming around I just wonder what is home; I just wonder what home means to me at the moment, if there is one, and if it is just one and only.
Some people romantically define home as “the place where the heart is”, although some others might consider it as the place where one’s family is to be found. When I asked a friend, he said “home is where I have peach tree, apricot tree and my cat”. Another one said “home is wherever I am”.
Everyone can own their personal notion of home: for one it can be the hamlet of the loved ones, for another the place where the soul finds happiness, comfort and peace. I like to think that my own is where I can gather all my emotions and positive vibes, a place where I can recollect myself in tranquility and serenity and be and enjoy a state of bliss and content. My home is the place I want to be with my loved ones with good will, a place where my spirit is lifted with joy.
I’m not sure if I have a place like this but in my mind I have one place which is near-home, although it is not heaven. I like to think of myself as a dweller but the reality does not really fit my idea.