Home is…

Home is a fortress. Its sturdy walls protect me from the biting winds and freezing snow outside. It settles me down, whether the storm is outside or within me. Within it, I feel protected against all the things the world could throw at me. Home is a blacksmith. It smelts the experiences formed within it into memories, like how molten metal is shaped into polished sculptures. From a simple stroke of my cat’s silky fur to every loop of my crochet hook, home turns mundane chores into unique treasures to cherish forever. Home is a training ground. Within it, I can hone my skills in peace. It’s never judgemental if I fail, and is always there for me. Surrounded by my crafts and books, I can cozy up in my chair like a baby bird in a nest, reading, creating, and imagining all I want. Home is an anchor. When I’m adrift, I use it as a landmark to pull my boat away from the sea of turmoil and onto dry land. When I feel upset, a quiet moment in my room crying into my pillow can fix everything. However, some people’s boats don’t have anchors, and they find themselves lost at sea. I give a heartfelt thank-you to those who help pull them to shore and give them solid ground to stand on. Home is a teacher. When I’m lost and unsure, a calm minute of self-reflection at home can be just the spark to guide me forward. A talk with a family member clears my mind and sets me in the right direction. Home is anywhere I feel safe. It may not be physical: It is wherever I light a crackling fire of security to keep me warm. If I feel I belong, I know I am home.