I’ve been told a million times, “You can never go home again.” I find this a little hard to swallow. There are a lot of questions that could be asked here, a lot of definitions that need to be stated.
First off, isn’t home where you hang your hat, where your heart is? If so then home is with you wherever you go. Along those lines, if home is where you feel safe then home can be anywhere.
If this is true then the other saying, “You can never truly leave home,” makes more sense. Some people feel at home around certain people or in certain places. A scent, a song, a memory, all of these things can be home.
But what about those memories? Places where you spent your childhood, is that the home you can never return to? Is home where your family is, a certain house that everyone goes to instead of their own house. What makes that particular house a home?
What about nomads? People who wonder around, looking for a place to call home, are they homeless even if they have a roof over their heads? Are they looking for a place to call their own or just some place to sleep, shower, and eat?
I have often wondered these questions, even as a child. Torn between two places, two houses that hold memories for me, two cities that I claim as my own and yet, can’t truly claim at all. My soul is a traveling spirit, always looking to the rolling hills and wide open skies, soaring high in the clouds and running hard in the meadows, swimming in pools of blue water while fishing in clear streams.
I say you can never go home because you never really left. Home is in your heart, in your body, rooted deep in your soul. You can not claim any one place, only collect mementoes along the way.
So take a deep breath, fill your lungs with air, your heart with love, your mind with memories. Enjoy the journey you’re on now, home is calling.