Like a lot of people, I’ve spent time in the last few weeks sorting out old possessions and clearing out forgotten things.

For as long as I can remember I’ve always written in diaries / journals / scrapbooks, and I got seriously nostalgic finding and flicking through them all. I came across an entry in an old notebook from 2016 about what home means to me, scribbled on a falling apart page. 

It made me smile, and I thought there isn’t really a better time to be talking about what home really means to all of us, so I thought I’d share it here…

“Home is much more than just my family house, what do I think of when I think of home?

Home is in a loud room filled with people that I love. Home is sat alone in bed at night listening to Ben Howard and watching candles flicker. Home is in my family. Home is in laughter, tears and in nights spent arguing. Home is in a sunset or at the beach. Home is in the ocean, diving under and feeling the rush of brain freeze, the tide sway my body and move around me. Home is staring up into a starry sky. Home is wandering around the cobbled streets of Tenby and sitting in coffee shops people watching and talking the day away. Home is the guy who comes to rent a kayak at work or the guy who serves me in the supermarket.

Home is in the chaos and love in between the chaos.

Home is staying up late drinking wine with friends and scenic train journeys to the city. It’s in the early mornings and drinking tea as light spills through the windows. My home is in my heart and in the familiar faces from school. It’s not a person, a place or a thing – it’s a feeling. A feeling of love and warmth and purpose. In the spaces between empty beaches and tall skyscrapers I find infinite possibilities, infinite love, laughter, tears, honesty. The feeling that anything can happen. To most people, maybe home is feeling safe – but I think home needs a little bit of feeling unsafe. That in every moment you’re on the edge of something, and really, anything can happen.

Home is that feeling.” 

No-matter where you are, I hope you find comfort in the thought that nothing is permanent, and anything is possible. Even this state we find ourselves in right now. See peace and happiness within yourself, and you’ll always feel like you’re at home.