Some people have a very precise concept of home. They spend their entire lives in one city, know everyone that lives there and are familiar with every little nook and corner. The comfort and sense of belonging these people have is enviable at times.
Then there are those who have a hard time making sense of where home really is. Is it the country they were born in? Brought up in? Studied in? Or the one they’re currently residing in?
Home for me is every city and country I’ve lived in, learned to love and given a part of myself to. The world is my home and this is where I belong. What’s your idea of home?
Here’s a short poem that I wrote at a very emotional time. I was about to leave Houston after having completed my undergraduate degree.
They say home is where the heart is
I say home is where –
You learn, you grow
You fall, you know
You miss, you are at bliss
You fight, you give
You discover, you prevail
You differentiate the real from the fake
You resist, you give in
You hold on and let go
Home is, where you learn to live.