This is a difficult topic for me. I can’t seem to get to grips with home.
Me, myself, I
When I was a teenager I spent a lot of time trying to come to terms with being me. That endeavour has been an ongoing project but originally as I hugged my teddy and worked at raising my self esteem the personal reinforcement worked to some extent. My life has trundled on and I have added to that. But what I am trying to say is I began to feel OK about the complex issue of being me and built up a bit of a wall around myself. Inside that wall I became my own home.
Good and bad.
It is difficult to penetrate my fortress but some have over the years. Vic and my man being two. When this happens that person becomes part of my home. It is like I add a door in my wall that connects to their home – (Just a door, to open or close) – and hearts are given the space to entwine and make a secure environment.
My heart is with my daughters so whenever we are together I feel a kind of peace and even if we are not at a place called home I can tell the three of us feel as if we are.
Floss ended her post with a quote by Maya Angelou which I am going to steal.
The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.
My Mum provided that for me by just being her. When she died I felt lost and it has been difficult to move past that feeling. Since then I’ve sometimes thought I need to be taught about the meaning of home.
I have lived in many different places and viewed a few as home. But usually I have felt like a visitor.
My man and I have one of the strangest jobs as we move around all over the country and live in other peoples houses – for a wee while. He and I are similar in that we’re both extremely adaptable and settle into new surroundings extremely quickly. It is exciting and stimulating. Forever adapting and then moving on. Modern day gypsies.
My blog has become a home to me. It is always here on my computer. The same place, providing routine to my day. I put my heart and soul into the posts I publish and it pulls me along.
To finish ~ May’s definition of home…
A place you feel secure enough to expand you mind and be yourself.