A few weeks ago, someone asked me: Where is home?
I looked at him without skipping a beat, pointed to myself, and said: home is here.
I’m sure I had been asked the question a thousand times, maybe more. But this time, for the first time, I pointed to myself.
I’ve been living in Makarska, Croatia for nine months. Since moving here, I’ve told most people that Makarska is homebase.
Before that, I was living in Canada. I was born in Canada. My parents, brothers, their families, extended family, and many friends live in Canada, and that will always be a part of me; I imagine I will always refer to that place as home because the many people I love, live there.
I’ve lived in Austria and Sweden for brief periods; those were home for those short periods.
My parents were born and raised in Bosnia Hercegovina. I feel connected to the place and the people, and I often refer to my parent’s homeland as my second home.
But a few weeks ago, chatting with a stranger, something finally clicked when I was asked, where is home?
It seems I finally understood that to build a home outside yourself, you must make a home inside yourself.
The foundation of my home should be rooted in the things I value and the things that bring me joy.
I can’t build a home based on other people’s values, other people’s beliefs, other people’s dreams. Well, I can, and I did. But eventually, you wake up and realise you’re tending to a home that isn’t yours.
And so, over these last three years, I have started to build a home within myself.
I’ve started to take note of what I value. I’ve begun to explore the things that bring me joy. I’ve started to release the things that no longer serve me. I’ve built a home within myself.
A few days ago, a dear friend told me you are living your best life.
And I thought about it, and this is my reply:
I’ve only just begun to live my best life. And it has everything to do with the fact that I finally understand the meaning of the word home.
Dear reader, with that being said, what is your definition of home?