I have just moved my private practice. Although it’s not been very far, and I haven’t moved any furniture, it hasn’t been the easiest step for me to take. Moving houses brings up a lot of associations – and I assume not just for me, as there are plenty of sayings about the meaning of home. Besides obviously “home sweet home," the idea “home is not just a place, it’s a feeling” really hit home for me. Indeed, it is a feeling, and this “feeling of home” doesn’t necessarily have to be connected to the outside place, but just like any other feeling, it needs to be taken care of and be nourished. And well, some places are more in line with our feeling of home than others.
I’ve had my private practice in the same place since 2018, and I quite liked it. You may have seen the fabulous view from the top roof in the heart of Vienna. There was nothing wrong with it, and when the new place popped into my awareness, I couldn’t pinpoint what made me decide to move, despite certainly many apparent facts that weren’t in line with my experience.
“On ne voit bien avec le coer, l’essentielle est invisible pour les yeux” / “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye” (Antoine de Saint-Exupery).
This quote moved me inside and out. It’s only been a week, and there have already been moments when my heart felt like coming home. I suppose the smallest one was that the supermarket nearby sells shortbread.
I assume you wouldn’t be reading my blog if you couldn’t relate to struggles around the concept of home. What if your experience of home wasn’t sweet at all? What if it was cold, violent, or just lost? If that’s what you relate to, hang in there; it’s my cause of writing and certainly my experience. When you share those difficult experiences of home, it can be hard to discern between what you’re used to and what you want to feel moving forward. Just too easily, we get caught up by miserable but very familiar feelings, and the past feeling of home turns out to be a trap. That’s why I’m making it a topic. That’s why I want you to make it a topic and become aware of the difference between choosing and creating a home and adapting to what feels familiar without considering potential side effects.
As I’ve mentioned in previous blogs about cultural differences – there’s nothing right or wrong about tea or coffee, about sun or rain, shortbread or Toffifee, but very much can be right or wrong about the way people value and accept each other unconditionally or not. If your experiences of home in the past don’t bring up the best memories, it’s most likely connected to the latter rather than the tiny details like the color of the walls. So, if you’re looking to find a home, I suggest looking out for a feeling of being safe, being accepted unconditionally and keeping it down to earth—a place where you feel like “they like me as I am”. And I guess that’s the point where the meaning of home turns into a feeling that’s unrelated to former—maybe not so brilliant—real-life experiences of home.
Now, we know what to do if you don’t have the best idea of home – but what if there’s just not any place you could imagine feeling at home?
This might be the most normal experience for you, and honestly, you don’t know why you’re reading about this at all. Maybe because you know me, and so it’s nice being an interested person, right? But maybe you could hardly commit to one place where you feel at home. For the sake of ease of mind and pleasing others, you call your current place of living home, but honestly, you don’t feel like it. Maybe airports or any international place feel more like home to you than anything else. If so, you’re not alone. There are plenty of people out there who don’t feel like belonging to one particular place or culture. It’s the curse and blessing of 3rd culture kids.
And even if it’s currently hard for you to find the place you feel at home, remember, home is not just a place; it’s a feeling. That means you’re very capable of finding a home within yourself, no matter which outside place you choose. Many somatic-oriented folks talk about finding a feeling of home in your body. Yes, I guess that’s part of it; if you dislike your inner place to be, it’s hard to find a better space on the outside—and yet it’s not exactly what I’m talking about. I mean a place in the outside world where you feel like you belong, just right, and you’d feel sad if you had to leave it. I suppose it’s very connected to a sense of belonging—being seen and welcomed for who we are. And most likely, we experienced this feeling in a specific place with special people. Over time, we might associate good memories with the place, and if we can bring all of us into this place, that’s where the feeling of home comes from. It’s not a matter of time or location, but rather a feeling of being accepted unconditionally.
The good news about this perspective is that you can find it just about anywhere. It’s more a matter of associating relational experiences with a physical space. I’d love to ask you if you have ever experienced this type of belonging and safety.
It can’t be seen, and if you know my counselling room, it looks very empty apart from not straight acoustic panel squares on the wall and my obligatory houseplant, but within lives this spirit of home. I’m growing it every day and in between sessions, I open the window so that it gets some oxygen. No, I’m joking. But I have this feeling, and I suppose I pass it on to you between the lines because it all depends on the people who invite you in.
Having said that, are you careful about the people you invite into your home? Well, I am. I ask them to take off their shoes – as you might know in 20 different languages by now. It helps us to feel more grounded and natural, besides keeping the floor clean. Those practicalities are just metaphors for our experiences. So, yes, I invite people in as long as they respect my home. They value and care for it, and therefore they are the most welcome guests. And those qualities are mandatory for being invited in.
In the journey of exploring the meaning of home, it becomes evident that home transcends mere physicality; it embodies a profound feeling of belonging and acceptance. As I navigate through the process of moving my private practice, I realize that home is not just a place but a sentiment that requires nurturing and care. Despite the challenges and uncertainties of finding or creating a home, it is essential to recognize that home resides within oneself and can be manifested in any external environment where unconditional acceptance prevails.
Reflecting on personal experiences and cultural differences, it becomes apparent that the essence of home lies in the connections we forge with others and the sense of belonging we cultivate. Whether rooted in a specific location or within ourselves, the feeling of home emanates from genuine relationships and mutual respect.
As we think about the significance of home, it is crucial to consider who we invite into our lives and spaces. By surrounding ourselves with individuals who honour and cherish our home, we reinforce its spirit and create a nurturing environment for personal growth and fulfillment.
In conclusion, the quest for home is multifaceted. Still, by embracing the complexities and valuing authentic connections, we can embark on a journey of discovering a home that’s not just a place but rather a feeling.