At first, I took coming home literally. I though of my home, and then of my family's homes in Kingston. I thought about the buildings and I thought of the addresses, I thought about their placement. But Kemp told me to think of it contextually, think of home as the feeling and not as the building.
To me, home is your origin, it should be the place where your day begins and ends. It should be the one place you will always feel safe, the escape from the pressures of your life, home needs to be your safety net from the world. You should be able to come home to a family that will listen, a group of people that help you, support you, encourage you, and provide for you.
The physical attributes of home mean nothing. Your home could be the most expensive mansion in the world, it could be filled with cooks and maids and butlers serving you 24/7, and it could have everything you want like a chocolate waterfall room, or a water slide for a staircase or a garage full of expensive cars. Home could also be a run down apartment building downtown, with a leaky roof, noisy neighbours, 40 year old beds, no electricity; it could be the least desirable place to live in the world, but as long is it's filled with people who care for you, people who really make your life better just by being around, your home is complete.
The house doesn't make the home, the people make the home that occupy the house. Going home doesn't mean going to 123 Adam Street at the end of the day, it means going back to where you started your day, where your family started the same day with you, going back to the beginning. If your house defines your home, you're doing something wrong; fix it.
To me, home is your origin, it should be the place where your day begins and ends. It should be the one place you will always feel safe, the escape from the pressures of your life, home needs to be your safety net from the world. You should be able to come home to a family that will listen, a group of people that help you, support you, encourage you, and provide for you.
The physical attributes of home mean nothing. Your home could be the most expensive mansion in the world, it could be filled with cooks and maids and butlers serving you 24/7, and it could have everything you want like a chocolate waterfall room, or a water slide for a staircase or a garage full of expensive cars. Home could also be a run down apartment building downtown, with a leaky roof, noisy neighbours, 40 year old beds, no electricity; it could be the least desirable place to live in the world, but as long is it's filled with people who care for you, people who really make your life better just by being around, your home is complete.
The house doesn't make the home, the people make the home that occupy the house. Going home doesn't mean going to 123 Adam Street at the end of the day, it means going back to where you started your day, where your family started the same day with you, going back to the beginning. If your house defines your home, you're doing something wrong; fix it.
