What is Home?

Home is where the heart is…

Home is wherever I’m with you…

Home is not a place, it’s a feeling…

Home is the nicest word there is…

Home is where our story begins…

Truly, what is home? I found myself in a contemplative state on the train from Newark to Penn Station, returning to the city after a weekend away.

(sidenote: If you ever visit NYC and fly into EWR, don’t be this adventurous. It’s not terrible, but it’s uncomfortable and time consuming. Just fork up the dollars and Uber - take the advice from the girl who “had to try it once”)

I’ve heard many New Yorkers mention the cleansing impact of leaving the city for a weekend, which I’m sure is partly why so many escape to the beach on summer weekends. I had an enticing trip booked, but I honestly can’t say that I felt the need to leave yet. I’ve certainly felt overwhelmed here at times, but I truly am making a home of within the City of Dreams.

Home, that word. In the past 2 years I have lived at 5 addresses for periods of time. I have lived out of suitcases. I have sold most of my belongings to move cross country. And I have shed quite the perception of what I always felt home was. To me then, it was tangible things and being near family & friends. To me now, it is relationships, memories, and anticipation.

My new relationships here are still forming, but my old relationships are stronger than ever. I miss family and friends daily, but since the move I have grown so close to some that are so far away. From OH to LA to AZ to NC to FL, I have dear relatives and friends to call at any hour of the day to share a laugh or cry, and I personally can’t put a value on that. My relationships create my home.

My memories help me to cultivate awareness and appreciation for the present moment. They’re stowed in my heart, framed on my wall, displayed in my Instagram feed, and constantly on my mind. They help me to feel at home wherever I am, and challenge me to realize that I don’t need physical things to represent what I love and where I find comfort. In the right moment, home is: my apartment / the subway / Central Park / Cleveland, Chardon, Phoenix, Tucson / on a plane / etc. My memories create my home.

Anticipation feeds my soul in so many ways – it pushes me to be happier, more optimistic, caring, introspective, goal-oriented, humble, and to appreciate my struggles as teachers. It brings me back down to earth when I need it to in such a simple manner of forcing me to realize that wherever I am, in that moment, all is right on track but the future is oh so exciting! Anticipation creates my home.

This all may not resonate immediately, but think about it for a second as it relates to you. Personally, I find no better way to appreciate the present than to dream about the future, just as young newlyweds & homeowners dream of filling their lives & homes with children, pets, and holiday guests. This is the pure fusion of relationships, memories, & anticipation. 

To me, home is no longer tangible. It is relationships, memories, and anticipation blended with the heat of the subway, the breeze off the Hudson, the bright beacon of Times Square, the serenity of Central Park, the solemn monuments to soldiers past, and the feelings I have while I experience them all.

Perhaps this is just a phase. Perhaps I will feel differently when I settle down someday to create a lifetime home with that one person. For now, rather than over-analyze it, I vow to appreciate my home in this moment and be thankful that I have such a special one.

All I know right now is…there’s no place like home, and I’m beyond excited to continue to build mine.