What does 'home' mean to you?

What does 'home' mean to you?

Write a personal response to the word 'home'.

As the car rounds the corner to the roundabout and my car takes a right, I don’t notice, but it happens. I know it happens as it happens every day in the same way, in the same place. My shoulders drop, my breath deepens and slows, my nervous system calms, my pulse steadies and my driving becomes less frantic. My body knows before my brain does - we have made it back to our community again, no bears are chasing us. The traffic quietens down. The cars reduce their roars to purrs. We all know that we protect the peace of this place. If I were to consciously acknowledge what this feeling is, it begins as relief – relief to be home, relief to be safe, relief to relax and restore, but that feeling soon deepens to safety and safety soon gives way to gratitude, gratitude to peace and peace to happiness and love. 

I regularly, and thoughtfully – consciously and deliberately- practice gratitude for what I call ‘home’. I am very grateful to have a really lovely house, a big garden, a sunny space, plenty of rooms, a secure community, interior design choices that I love, the most comfortable bed on earth, my library. But a ‘home’ is a lot more than a house. I once had a pillow emblazoned with the statement ‘home is where your mum is’ a playful spin on the phrase ‘wherever I lay my hat, that’s my home.’ And ‘home is where the heart is.’ ‘Home’ isn’t a building. It isn’t possessions. It isn’t furniture (although it could be your bed!). Home is ‘where your mum is’ is my best definition. 

In Danish and Denmark there is a concept called ‘hygge’ that is a major part of Danish culture but has no direct translation in English. Loosely, it implies being cosy inside the house with people you love, eating delicious things, being warm and seems to involve fluffy blankets, slippers, candles, cake, coffee and family laughter. The closest word in English is ‘cosy’ but this is more related to warmth than the Danish implications of comfort, gratitude, family and home implicit in ‘hygge’ life. 

As a Dan-glish family we fully embrace ‘hygge’ all year round. My home is filled with cushions, candles, blankets, pillows, lamps, sweet treats, interesting art, travel guides, mugs from around the world, books in lots of languages, lots of colour, lots of stories, lots of games. We often eat sat low around our coffee table, shoulder to shoulder as we share home cooked food and the narratives of our day. I didn’t grow up with ‘hygge’ as a concept in England, but I think I’ve always known its joy in my soul. We celebrate every festival – Christmas, Easter, Halloween and harvest – but also Eid, Diwali and Holi, any excuse for twinkling lights. Birthdays always have balloons and cake and candles gleefully extinguished with optimistic hopes for the next year. 

As a mother, I hope my children grow up to think ‘home is where my mum is’. I once heard that motherhood is like living your life with your heart on the outside of your body, and it scares me to think about a time my boys with leave to go to other continents to become adults. But I was raised by a strong, independent, single mother who punctuated her advice to us with the expression ‘strong roots, strong wings.’ She wanted us to understand we would always have a ‘home’ in her home, but that we had, more importantly, to develop strong wings – to fly free and build our own nests, where other saplings would feed safe, seen and protected. To create our own hygge spaces. 

When people use the expression ‘go big or go home’, I think they cannot possibly understand how I feel about home. I’d literally do anything to get home! I simply love, and live to travel, but the adventures and excitement of travelling to new places and staying in hotel rooms is always concluded by the gratitude of landing, both in my ‘home’ city and in my own bed. One wish I have for the world is that every human on the planet felt about their homes the way I feel about mine. 

Home is where my boys are. Home is where our bicycles are. Home is where is build Lego. Home is where we get the best sleep and the best food. Home is where we discuss big ideas. Home is the dog scratching to go out. Home is another chapter of Harry Potter under the blanket, three sets of toes in a line, three heads on the same pillow. Home is where you can shout and cry and everyone still loves you afterwards. Home is where the Christmas tree is the only light in the room. Home is where the easter egg hunt gathers pace. Home is the best gravy. Home is fresh coffee. Home is a thousand scented candles. Home is covered in thousands of fairy lights. Home is reading. Home is sunshine. Home always feels like the weekend feels. 

Fill up your cup. Go big and go home.