If There’s No Place Like Home, What Happens If There Is No Place Like Home?
“House plus Love equals Home” — Carpe Diem Planner Stickers
In my mid-teens, I swore that I’d save every penny and move to California on my 18th birthday — San Diego to be exact, to live my dream of working with the animals at Sea World and potentially find love with a blond surfer, which, for some reason, I named [in my daydream] Jake.
A moment of silence please.
I honestly haven’t a clue what stumped this dream — perhaps my lack of saving skills [then], my lack of a marine biologist degree, and innate tendency to find an insidious amount of comfort in the familiar, but who knows!
Though, I can certainly say that my lifelong dreams of being a writer sprinkled with my stubbornness to conform to a 9–5 of insanity, mixed with my lust of wander has kept me in the same house with my parents in my 20’s.
That’s a given.
Oh, and we can’t forget about adding in a few cups of an economy who’s bloodthirsty for every last penny from every living being at every corner now, can we?
My aunt has a monthly magazine subscription for us (which we never knew of until recently) and always just threw out each monthly issue in bewilderment.
Though, this month’s issue of Real Simple caught my attention, along with my newfound and rekindled passion for the paper magazine.
Savor your summer — 70 ways to slow your roll and have fun on the cover was the selling point, but what I truly lost myself in was the section of Design ideas to steal from hotels.
Simultaneously, I’ve been reading a book on a similar concept of design— The Inviting Life: An Inspirational Guide to Homemaking, Hosting and Opening the Door to Happiness by Laura Calder.
I fell in love with this book on the second page of the introduction.
I, personally, am not too big on decorating, not in a sense of shiplap and which chandelier matches the carpets best at least, but more so in a sense of ergonomics, and again, not in a sense of where we place the furniture, but what the environment’s statement is and where we place our energy within the spaces given to us.
Let me reassure you, this is not some free-spirited outlook on which incents and crystals channel which positive vibe/energy and combat the opposing*, but more so what we can channel within when our environment lands a few inches short of the sentiment home.
*Absolutely no judgment if you are passionate about this — I love the scent of burning sage and anything between prehnite and emerald as much as the next person, but that’s not entirely what I feel makes a house as a home.
As I mentioned, and as I see it, home is a sentiment in lieu of a physical item — it’s a warm welcome towards and comfort in vulnerability and candidness.
Unfortunate as it is, I’ve had a rare taste of what any of that means, I more so learned to fear both at an early age.
When I travelled throughout the summer of last year (you know, aside from running away) I also sought out to find sentiments similar to such solace.
I wanted to find a place I could call my own, a person, perhaps, just something, anything I could call my own (obviously not in a sense of owning, but to have and to hold kind of way).
When I didn’t, though, I started to see how much of a nomad I was to my own life — I didn’t have anything of my own, not a house, not a significant other or family that I created, not even my pets were my own!
My house is my parent’s house.
My dog is my brother’s/the family dog.
My cat is my sister’s cat.
This mere graze of acknowledgement sent me down an awfully quick spiral.
When I was still travelling, I told myself that when I came back, the first step I’d take to turn the page to the next chapter of my life was get my dream dog, a long-haired Dalmation.
Though, I soon realized that Kira (my brother’s German Shepard) fills my entire heart to the brim, I couldn’t just push her to the side right before her very eyes!
Not only so, but she’s also immensely jealous — if I as so much call to our other dog (Jovi — a chihuahua-mix), Kira is ready to fight her or get in her way of loving.
All I had to my name was my room and the few things in it. And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for this — I have a warm bed to sleep in every night, food to eat, clothes on my back, a family that loves me and cares about me (though, in their own twisted way…more so from my parents) — this alone, I know, makes me rich beyond riches, but what I desired, more than anything, was the feeling of home.
A desire that doesn’t resemble a “want,” but a collection of all 3 basic humans needs: satisfaction, pleasure, and connection. A need that demands to be filled with its equal request — not something similar, not something close to — its exact.
And that is an aching and longing that doesn’t fill on its own.
Since my present life doesn’t necessarily contain any outlets for me to obtain a home, I had to create this sentiment on my own — by seeking ways that it may already be satisfied.
The very first step into doing so, which creates a stable foundation for the rest, is exercising in gratitude.
For gratitude is where love prospers entirely.
I took a step back to peer at my life through a lighter lens to seek what I’m truly, undeniably grateful for, in which I needn’t had to remind myself why while engaging with.
This is what I listed:
- A journal and pen
- Books/Music
- Nature
- Kira and Elliot (my sister’s cat)
- My Room
- Cooking/Painting
Next, I had to assess what in specific I was grateful for, why, and how each may satisfy one, if not all, of my needs.
Footnote: I am also beyond grateful for my family, but there are various reasons in which they are not on my list of things that make me feel at home.
A journal and pen
I am grateful for a simple journal and pen simply because it gives me a space to cleanse my mind and heart, openly and without remorse.
And it’s not just the journal and pen but writing as its whole.
Writing is my place to engage with my heart and pour it unapologetically where I please, causing my mind to become just as freed.
It’s a “place” where I can vent and be vulnerable without being bashed or ridiculed. I mean, yes, there’s critics and people who feel the need to share their every opinion, but what allows me to separate myself from such criticism is knowing that what I write is true to myself and my deepest sentiments in every way; something that no negative comment can take away from me.
I write from my soul. This is the reason that critics don’t hurt me, because it is me. If it was not me, if I was pretending to be someone else, then this could unbalance my world. But I know who I am— Paulo Coelho
Books/Music
My all-time favorite book that I will forever be grateful for (and wish more similar to it existed) is The Penguin Anthology, edited by Rita Dove.
Though, 14,000 Things to be Happy About by Barbara Ann Kipfer is slowly inching its way to tie as #1 with it.
Aside from my favorite books, I am also grateful for any kind of music that moves me.
For both, I am grateful because they speak to me when simple or even extravagant words just refuse to do a moment justice.
For books and music, I am not alone.
Nature
Nature is timeless, it’s always there and easily accessible.
Miraculous in its beauty, I oft find my balance in nature; I’m comforted and reassured that I am beautiful in my authenticity and that change is also beautiful, and certain to arrive.
Kira and Elliot
All and all, I am grateful for all sorts of animals, whether as a pet or not.
For Kira and Elliot, however, they make up my entire heart.
For Kira, I was never fond of dogs as much as I am now until her.
She’s so smart and sweet, it warms my heart!
She lets you hug her if you ask, “Can I have a hug?” But only for a short moment — if you hug her too long or don’t ask, she’ll growl and pretend to go bite you as she’s leaping out of your arms (it’s actually very entertaining).
This past fall/winter season, I was going through a rough patch, and one morning as I prepared breakfast, my tears would not cease in racing down my cheeks.
It’s a bit stubborn of me, but I was getting frustrated — my food was almost done, the day just started…completely allowing this emotion to purge in this moment wouldn’t be as nearly as cleansing as it would if I cried myself to sleep later in the evening than in the here and now as I cook scrambled eggs.
(I hope I’m not alone here in thinking that!)
I looked over as Kira was just sitting on the tile watching me, and I completely fell apart.
I plopped myself on the floor near her and hugged her so tightly as I bawled my eyes out for some time…she didn’t make a sound or move a muscle.
As for Elliot, whenever I’m upstairs, he is right at my heels, or if I’m on my bed, he’s on my chest, purring and reaching out for love.
Side note: my sister has two cats, Elliot is just closer with me than his brother, Gizmo, who merely adores me (to a brief extent) when my sister is nowhere to be found.
Side note II: Jovi isn’t as loving as Kira, only when there is food involved.
For the pets in my house that love me unconditionally, I am grateful to be able to give them the same.
My Room
Not only am I grateful for my room for the mere fact of being able to sleep in a warm bed each night, but also because it's a representation of myself, in which I find comfort in it entirely for this reason.
It’s my safe haven when I need time away from the world, surrounded by everything I need/love to recoup in various times of need.
Cooking/Painting
I am grateful for cooking and painting because they are hobbies in which I have a similar freedom to writing in self-expression.
Cooking and painting also keep me engaged and grounded while simultaneously taking me to another world of culture or imagination when I’m feeling distant and/or distracted.
They give me a sense of belonging — that I have something grand to share with others or even a way to understand more of myself.
All of these things I have listed help me find a subtle sense of home in a place that’s always only ever felt as a house. They help me find the love in my day-to-day life no matter how unattainable it may seem.
I do want to address my use of subtle because as I mentioned, our needs demand something specific:
Satisfaction — shelter, food, safety, clothing
Pleasure — hobbies, exploring, engagement
Connection — love, support, acceptance, feeling welcomed
And for each item on my list, I am, undeniably grateful for, but few fill the gaps entirely. The unfortunate truth is, regardless of what I obtain, I always have this subtle sense of emptiness in my heart that I can’t fill on my own.
Though, I am grateful that it’s not as big of a vacancy as it used to be…I have gratitude to thank for that.
Regardless of where you may leisure, what makes a house as close as possible to a home is watering your flowers — seeking and amplifying the life and love that is always there for those who wish to find it.
“There are always flowers for those who want to see them” — Henri Matisse
