I used to think a home meant walls, windows, and furniture. Turns out, that’s just a house.
Over the years, my definition of home kept evolving. From a place I could call mine, to a house I owned, to something far less tangible and far more meaningful.
Different stages of life bring different understandings.
For a long time, home meant putting down roots.
A place to stay.
A place to belong.
A place I could branch out from and grow.
And then, sometimes, life hands you a mirror.
A mirror that shows you not just who you are, but where you came from. And when life hands you that mirror, it often sprinkles in a little magic. A spell so subtle that if you’re not paying attention, you miss it entirely.
That spell is self-awareness.
The ability to truly look at yourself. To meet your past without flinching. And to glimpse a blank canvas quietly waiting to become your future.
A few years ago, life offered me that gift.
That flicker of clarity. Call it foresight. Call it grace.
I took it.
And somewhere along the way, my idea of home changed again.
I realised that I could choose and decided that I would rather have wings than roots. Now, home is where I rest my wings. Wings I grew through grit, hope, and moxie.
Roots can anchor you. Wings let you choose.
Home is people’s hearts, spaces where you are held without judgment, where you are allowed to be seen, accepted, and unfinished.
Home is also time itself.
The days, months, and years you are gifted, which you are free to shape as you wish.
To spend consciously. To honour.
To begin again.
Home, now, is a place that welcomes me as I am, and as I evolve.
Where love is not transactional. Where care flows even through silence. Where my presence is celebrated.
That is what home means to me now.
Not a structure. Not an address.
But a way of living.
A way of choosing.
A commitment to Honour and Own My Energy.
This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’ hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla
What a lovely insight into a home. It really gives you wings, the ability to feel joy. Home is where heart rests in peace.
So true. Home is never a place, it’s always a feeling right? You reminded me of a poem I once wrote on the same subject 🙂
Lovely thought, and unique too. I always thought home is where the heart is and where the hearth is! But now you tell me home is time too. That’s very interesting, and thought-provoking.
It took me a long time to come to terms with whether home was about roots or where I rest my wings. I agree with you completely. A beautifully done interior is still a house, and where you are you is a home. It was a painful decision to sell my house, but when I realised it was mere walls, it became easy, just like that.
That’s such a lovely thought, M. We try to find a home in a place, within walls, or a person but our real home is us! Hope your wings take you places that can fill that blank canvas with beautiful words and pictures.
I love how you have highlighted the importance of rooting yourself in a place versus spreading your wings. I would also be someone to spread my wings and fly. I hate to be in the same place.
I needed this today! Owning my energy and creating a nurturing home is something I’m working on too. Your words felt like a gentle, uplifting nudge.
Loved your lyrical writing and interpretation of home! Just today I mentioned on a call that ‘home’ for me means multiple places – as in a way i live across multiple cities – the place where i work, the place where my husband lives, my sister’s home that’s a home away from home and so on…
My home sweet home… no one can beat the comfort you offer me in life, no one can beat the love you offer when I am in acute need of rest. You make me feel protected, safe, cared, energetic and loved in every way. I love you my HOME. 🙂
What a lovely insight about home. Never thought of it that deep