Home is not a place.

I got to thinking about the word “home” tonight, and what it meant to me. How that word changed throughout the years. I used to believe that home is a place.

I came back to Canada a few years ago thinking that I came back home. Little did I know that I’ve been away from home for too long that all the relationships have since passed on.

I thought that I was coming home to feel comfort, but I came home almost like a stranger. Everything and everyone’s changed.

Today I know that home is a place that we create for ourselves where we can feel comfort and joy.

It is not a permanent place where we can go to and instantaneously feel comfort. It is created by the relationships, place and people that we surround ourselves with.

Maybe home requires luck, effort and a deep trust that if we seek we will find.

Here’s to all of us creating our homes. A gentle reminder to be compassionate with ourselves and to know that in time with trust and a bit of luck. We’ll build a taste of home in no time.