What is home? What is your "home"?
(pls use this song while reading this: ์๋ท์ - ์ง Home by Janet Suhh)
For a long time now I've pondered about this. I've asked friends. I've asked acquaintances. I've tried to get perspective.
Because, for a long time now I've felt that home is not just a house. To me, it's where we find shelter - mentally, physically, spiritually - and the comfort to completey be ourselves.
"Home is where the heart is."
That is, of course, the most oft-used and cliched response. And let me be honest, I have no problem with that saying, but I think my curiosity really took over recently while realizing how difficult it is for people to understand where their heart is and what it wants.
I often like taking these kind of photos (cover), and stare at all those lit up windows on the buildings thinking of all the different kinds of lives people may be living in each one of those rectangular container. Do you ever do that?
Homes - you may call them. But i wonder... When you look at your own city (or a city you want to live in) and think of your own home, do you really just think of that lit up rectangle filled with things that belong to you? Or do you think of certain memories or habits? Or... do you think of a certain someone (or some ones)?
Where does your heart lie?
In recent recollection, my friends have shared a few things that give them the sense of home. Mind you, not all my friends or acqauintances shared the most sincere responses (lol), so please use discretion while reading.
More than one said, for them, "home" is where their fave toilet is (facepalm). But hey, I do understand and I can relate to a certain degree. I did talk about being completely comfortable with being ourselves.
Some, and I was surprised by how many, said their bed make them feel at home. They really need their beds. The heart wants what the heart wants (shrug).
Of the diverse responses ranging from food, pets, sentimental objects, and habits & memories, one of my favourites was smell or scent. To some, the unique scents they are used to and comfortable with remind them of home.
The one that resonated with me most though, is when someone said, "Sometimes, home is a person." So, maybe it doesn't matter where you are. Being with the person who you shared valuable, vulnerable, and loving memories with becomes the home where your heart finds comfort and shelter.
I only shared these recent responses and experiences I've come across because I found them fascinating. However, I do think I need to learn more and understand this better.
I will try to share more stories about home in the future. Maybe I will share more of my own experiences as well. As for now, I am leaning towards the feeling that home, more often than not, is a person. Almost like what the song was talking about...
"๋๋ ์ธ์ ๋ ๊ทธ ์๋ฆฌ์ ๋ ๋น์ ์ ์ด๋ ๊ฒ ๊ธฐ๋ค๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์๋ I'll be your home ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฒ ์๋ง์ ์๊ฐ์ด ์ง๋ ๋ ๋ค๋ฅธ ๊ธฐ์ต You were my home"
(์๋ท์ - ์ง Home by Janet Suhh)
So, now I ask you.
Why don't you look at these lit windows and think about your home. What comes to mind first? What does your heart say?














