I believe we all have a common concept, but each have personal meaning for the word.
In recent years I have taken on a personal quest to find home within. I’ve been learning more about me and what makes me tick. I’ve become more comfortable in my own skin. I don’t have near all the answers. I don’t know all about me, but I know more. Progress is all I can ask of myself.
I believe in building esteem from within myself. I hope I can become more myself and a better man today than I was yesterday. In becoming better I can find that the security that I searched for in a physical house, a home, I already have within myself. Once I have that as part of me, I can in turn be better for those around me. I can give, love and share because I am secure, safe and assured.
A physical brick and mortar (in my case stucco) house is necessary for my physical body and family. If I have taken care of me first, my soul, I can turn that physical structure into a home for those I love. Through sharing that home, that love, I in turn have built a home for myself. A home I treasure.
So as I stroke Fearsome in contemplation of the meaning of home, I write. In writing I sort my thoughts for myself and share them with you. In writing this little blog post I am realizing that for me home means love. Love, security, sharing, safety, strength, shelter, family…home is a place where I can be me without fear or judgement. Home is a place, a worthy goal, to strive for both in my head and in my house.
“Home is a place where one starts from” ….T.S. Eliot