Home?

One of my favourite lyrics of all time are from a Romanian song that I have known since I was a kid. The lyrics are "iarba verde de acasa, sa ma ratacesc prin lume nu ma lasa", which essentially reads "the green grass from home doesn't let me get lost in the world". It always resonated with me as I always thought that Romania will always be close to my heart and will always feel like home despite beginning a new life elsewhere, far away from "home".

In recent years, I started questioning that concept of "home" and where that location was. I like being with my family in their home here in Canada, but it stopped feeling like home a while ago. So I moved elsewhere, on my own, in hopes of finding that feeling of home.

I have been on my own for just over a year and I haven't been able to find that home-like feeling. I questioned the tangibility of such a place. Is home a place or a feeling? Is it a person or a community? Is it something constant or ever-changing? What is home?

A few weeks ago I took a trip with my roommate to a nearby city. It was weird that although we were gone for only a few days, I found a piece of exactly what I was looking for. It was in the sights, in the air, and in everything I was experiencing. It was in the experiences, and it was in the activities. It was a breath of air and the wind in my hair.

Home and the concept of home is certainly a subjective topic. For me, it is not a place and is technically a feeling that is influenced by a multitude of factors. It could be a sentence that someone says that puts me at ease. A phone call with a dear friend. A city I have not seen yet but have had some sort of attraction towards. A hug with my mom or a drink shared with my dad. The act of holding hands or a kiss. The trust put in me by someone I care about. That is home.