What Really Makes A Home

Reflection prompts and feelings post-move

Dear Reader,

Today is our first official day living in this new, much littler home we’ve been busy creating these last five months. We’re exhausted, and also there is no other place to be, to be responsible for, or to answer to but here and that newfound liberation is more welcomed than I’d anticipated. After four and a half years stewarding this land — keeping animals, planting an orchard, building relationship with the patterns and personality of this place — we now add “home” to its collection of names. Here, our lives just became a lot smaller in the physical sense but the potential to be found here will expand us beyond.

The phases of this building process and of our move have felt like distinct chapters. Many times I have thought to myself, “oh, we’re here now, this part is different, we’ve entered the next level.” About one week ago, our old place no longer felt like home and, without consciously deciding to, we stopped referring to it as such. Although we still slept there, our pets were there, and some of our belongings were still scattered about, it simply became “the house”.

As a creative who dedicates much of myself putting words and meaning to the concept of ‘home’, I am scouring my heart for an answer to the most foundational question to this inquiry — what really makes a home? If it isn’t necessarily where one sleeps or where one’s stuff is at, where is it?

This morning, while my husband attends a land blessing with his community of watermen, I am here, basking in the quiet (except for the blasting wind) and the pockets of sun streaming in through the windows over the bed in between blankets of gray. Our three cats, disturbed by the high winds and unfamiliarity of their new digs, have kept us up much of the night and as I carve out this time to write I’m relieved they’re outside exploring their new terrain. I still get up to call for them from the window every now and then so they don’t stray too far. Today feels slow and tender and like a day for pressing pause on the very long list of building projects needed to complete this home and instead take a nap, weed the neglected garden, and cook our first dinner in our home.

Still being under construction, the long streak of rain, the constant howling winds, the lack of sleep, the cutting of the cord tethering us to the old place — there is much about today that feels uncomfortable, parts of it heavy even. I almost broke my weekly writing commitment because I felt I had both too much and nothing good to say. But as I lay submerged in a hot bath in the cast iron claw foot I’ve lugged to three homes now, temporarily set up outside on the windward side of the house, cheeks chilled but body warmed, I know from the deepest part of me that peace and shared belonging will be found here. And that, for me, currently, is what makes this home.

Reflection Prompts // exploring home

Close your eyes and ask yourself where home feels like for you. Try not to force an answer, but rather allow yourself to see and feel what comes up. Where does your mind take you?

What conditions or elements make that place feel like home to you? Explore your senses — is it certain flavors, a familiar sound or smell, a visual, a way of being? Get as specific as you can.

Home is essentially the feeling of belonging. Why do these named conditions and elements of your home give you a sense of belonging? For example, if the scent of a certain spice reminds you of home then perhaps it’s because it’s a flavor your grandmother often used when she cooked for you and she was a nurturing guide and caretaker in your life who made you feel safe and seen.

Do you feel at home where you are now? Physically, emotionally, spiritually. If your answer is not a ‘yes’, how might you integrate your feelings and reminders of home into your current life?

If there’s one thing this move has proven to me, it’s that we have the power to create home wherever we are.