Escape Points
What’s your definition of home?
For some, home is a place to rest, be it temporarily or permanently. I once visited the house of a great man who’s buried in the backyard of his own house. Apparently, he was also a great party host who often opened his house to many of his friends. I instantly thought, “Ah what a feeling, the house had a good life”. To see its corners filled with laughter and chatter, to see its sofas and beds used to recharge not just physically but perhaps also mentally, to see its walls filled with statues and paintings that probably portrayed a small bit of his life and personality, to see its shelves filled with wines to enjoy with his loved ones though he probably kept the best ones to himself, to see its curtains opened so people could bask in the sunlight, and to see its garden seen as comforting enough to be its owner’s final resting place.
The house is probably having a good and long rest now, as it should. It served a good purpose during its run.
A home beyond a house.
For others, home is not exactly a place. It could be your most favorite person: your closest family member, your significant other, your group of friends you could always lean on, heck it could even be your pet. Few weeks ago, a friend told me that coming home is akin to the feeling of being embraced by her mom’s comforting hug. I smiled and was secretly holding my tears back as she said that. Another friend told me that it doesn’t necessarily have to be her mom’s presence, it could be just her mom’s voice heard from a long distance call, soothing her down as she sobbed her problems away.
Again, I thought what a joy it was, to be embraced wholly even with our bodies full of scars, by our favorite person. To be accepted as we are with all our flaws. To be just we are, without needing to pretend to become somebody better with greater responsibilities (a caretaker, a parent, a role model you name it). For some who are lucky enough, their favorite person are probably just a call or a text away. For those who are less fortunate, we haven’t had the privilege to meet them just yet. And I guess, while it sucks, that’s just what life is about, a waiting game.
Another friend of mine answered that a home to him feels like different mixed up emotions. But when he imagined it, the feeling of safety, of being respected, of being supported and the feeling of being able to relax are the first things that came up. What an interesting take I thought, that a single word can evoke so many different emotions to different people.
When I thought about home, I imagined the feeling of my body and soul laying bare. Skins exposed, mistakes embraced, and hopes seen clear as day.
So I guess, in the process of trying to find our home, we try to escape. Some escape from the dullness and the mundanity of life, some escape from the burden of responsibilities that are too great, some escape from never feeling enough, some escape from the loneliness that creeps in at night while lying in bed alone or not, while some escape from the insufferable pains that just can’t seem to go away.
Personally, I find it astonishing to learn the many ways people choose to escape to. For those fortunate enough, they venture into beautiful places. For many others, they dive into new hobbies. For some, they look for any forms of entertainment: be it books, films, drinking at bars, or dancing at clubs. For others, they cling to the nearest person available. None of these things I mentioned are meant in a negative way, but again, just like many other things, too much of anything could hurt.
We all have our own definition of home, and our process of finding it may differ. One thing I know for sure is that, I know it’s not always a happy journey. More often than not it is sad and lonely and while some of us came out of it finding something, there are those who in the process felt more hopeless than ever. And all I want to say is just that.. it’s okay. It’s okay to feel whatever you want to feel without having someone to validate those feelings (but just in case you still need the validation, it’s okay too, living is already hard enough). It’s okay to want to rest at home, and it’s okay to escape.
