Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – February 10, 2004
Coming Home
Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – February 10, 2004 – Shakespeare penned, “When I was at home, I was at a better place”. The Bard certainly knew that of which he wrote.
“Home is where the heart is” – this place of comfort, security and familiarity. It matters not whether a person comes home to an empty dwelling, an abode with pets or a home with a spouse and children – the ritual of home coming at the end of the day offers solace and acceptance. A place where you can be yourself. No need to be an “artful dodger” at home.
Can you remember the last time you were exhausted or sick. Where did you want to be? At home of course. Upon returning from vacation we are headed home. Home is where we live now, but it can also be our place of origin, it may refer to our hometown or a different country from the one in which we now live. But make no mistake the urge to go home is in our genes. Homeward bound, home-made, home truth, home-land, home-spun, home-stead, home-stretch, home-sick, homey, home-maker and home-grown. A universal desire is to be “home”.
I remember flying over Toronto’s Pearson Airport on may occasions after being away on vacation. As the plane circled around and prepared to come in for a landing I always felt a ripple of excitement at the thought of being home. After collecting my luggage from the carousel and fighting my way through customs, then bundling my bags into a taxi, I couldn’t wait to walk up my front path and open the door to my home.
Down with the suitcases – a walk through my space was in order. I’m always amazed that things are exactly as I left them. The clocks kept ticking, the sun still shines through the kitchen window, the sofa is waiting for me to kick off my shoes and sit down. My books are standing on the shelves, the stereo will soon be filling my home with music and the kettle will whistle to signal tea time.
I can relax. I am not judged. Expectations are my own. My animals are happy to have me back. I can pick up from where I left off. I can reflect upon my time away – building memories of the experiences I had. Vacation time will fade soon enough as I return to the rhythm of my everyday life – back to work – phone calls and meetings – back to the wonderful, mysterious energy of being home.
Humans and animals are born with the homing instinct – the desire to be surrounded by the familiar, to feel unassailable, to belong, to be in a place where we can let down our guard – where harmony reigns supreme.
On those days when nothing seems to go your way, the frustrations of life seem over-whelming and you want to scream – think instead of home and imagine the solace that awaits you. Simply re-focus your energy, move forward and know that everything will be less frenetic when you get home at the end of the day.
You may still have a thousand things to do at day’s end with children and homework, renovation projects, work related reading, laundry, grocery shopping and garden care, and want to be any place but there. Stop for a moment and think of the people who have no homes. Doesn’t that put things into perspective?
It reminds me of another of my favourite sayings – “I felt sorry for myself because I had no shoes – until I met a man who had no feet”. So take a good, long look around your home, understand what it stands for and regardless of its simplicity or grandeur – be grateful that it’s yours and that you belong!
