1. One's own dwelling place; the house in which one lives.
2. A dwelling place together with the family or social unit that occupies it; a household.
3. An environment offering security and happiness.
4. A valued place regarded as a refuge or place of origin.
5. One's native land; the place or country in which one dwells; the place where one's ancestors dwell or dwelt.
6. The abiding place of the affections, especially of the domestic affections.
7. The locality where a thing is usually found, or was first found, or where it is naturally abundant.
8. A place of refuge and rest.
9. An institution where people are cared for.
10. A headquarters; a home base.
The difference between house and home can be subtle, but at the same time the chasm which separates them is infinite.
An environment offering security and happiness.
This weekend, while contemplating having to move for the 2nd time in 6 months, I realized that I do not have a home, and have not had one for a long time. For several years I think. It was an epiphany of sorts. Even before I asked the ex for a divorce I didn’t have a home, just a place where I lived. Even though I hadn’t crystallized the knowledge at the time, not feeling that it was a home any longer certainly played into my decision to leave. I shouldn’t have been surprised at the outcome concerning the house considering the ex’s reluctance to ever include me in any house type decisions or put my name on the title. Even being the only breadwinner in the house for so many months those time he was unemployed didn’t merit that honor. I should have known better. *sigh* Ah well, hindsight is 20/20.
I now see that not having a home influences my life more than I thought. More than I realized. More than I want it to. It’s a very destabilizing sort of thing. There is no security or stability in such a situation. This position feeds all those nasty things I try so hard to keep locked in the little boxes is my mind – that there is neither anyone nor anything I can depend upon or trust. Except myself. That I have to be completely self contained and independent. That I must always be prepared to leave every situation at a moments notice. Having the folks I rent from now 'admit' they were considering selling the house when I moved in but didn’t tell me doesn’t help.
Having no home reinforces that I am a lonely island adrift in the vast sea of humanity. It’s frightening to have no center, no refuge, no anchor.
Why do I bother unpacking anymore?
He entered in his house - his home no more,
For without hearts there is no home.