Home: 1 word that can mean many different things to many different people. For some, it’s four walls and a roof over their head. For others, it’s a person that makes them feel safe and protected from the harshness of society. Still others seek to find something they can call home and never find it.
I feel lucky to have found home, but not in the traditional way I mentioned above. For me, home isn’t a tangible object but more of a feeling that overwhelms my senses. Let me explain.
Every time my headlights turn on as we roll into the Eisenhower tunnel, I can’t help a gigantic smile from creeping upon my face, no matter what the conditions are. Snow, sleet, rain, sunshine…I’m still wearing a giant smile because I’ve made it to the mountains. Being surrounded by these majestic peaks that reach high into the sky has a calming effect, as if to say, welcome home.
Welcome to a place where solitude greets you with whispering winds and serenity can be heard in the dirt crunching under your hiking boots. Birds chirp as they fly over deer grazing in an open field; trees whir and your heartbeat pounds heavily through your chest. The air is cleaner and your breath more steady. Everything that had been bothering your before is no longer of importance. Your mind goes from analyzing your to=do list to enjoying the sounds of nature. You start to feel an overwhelming sense of relief; this is coming home.
So now you see, for me, home isn’t a place, but a way a place makes you feel. It’s life slowing down so you can enjoy the moments and remember what it’s like to feel alive. I hope whatever home is to you that you find it, hold onto it and chase that feeling as often as you can.