Home in five…

“I’ll be home in five.”

It’s the kind of thing we like to say; to know in a very short time we’ll be back in a place of belonging, of safety, of the normal everyday where-we-BE.

Lucky us, to have that.

Lucky us, not to be sheltering from warfare, or schlepped across countries against our will, or even out on the streets, where ‘home’ might be a shop doorway or a cardboard tent against the cold. The world is full of homelessness.

I read, recently, or maybe watched a short documentary…it was about homeless people on the streets of Britain who, in the middle of winter, preferred to stay outside in their little shelter, with their scraps of nothing and whatever dignity their scrounging could afford, because they trusted it more than the shelter which was on offer. That made me sad, but also made sense.

Home is where we feel safe (ideally).

They say ‘home is where the heart is’, and that’s true to an extent as well, but I suppose if you’ve been careless (I mean lucky) enough to give parts of your heart to people whose geography keeps them a thousand miles (or more) away, your home is fractured – ever scattered, and you can live betwixt and between but never settle. Maybe the nomads have it better – they and all their people pack up and leave all together, carrying their home wherever geography takes them.

Maybe home is where you know the feel of the roads with your eyes closed in the passenger seat. Maybe it’s where you’ve forged a history (or history has surged to encompass you nonetheless) and you recognise landmarks and non-marks, and notice small things in unremarkable places which matter to you because there, in that space, you lived.

Time’s up.

Was I home in five? Consciousness certainly streamed, and thoughts flowed quickly enough, but rapidly off on tangents (which, I suppose, is part of the point of the exercise). I wanted to say ‘home is where the love is’, but I think that’s naive and perhaps only aspirational. Home can be where memories are, but that doesn’t mean it’s homely, or lovely, or somewhere you want to remain, and I think those, too, are crucial factors of ‘home’. We all want a place to belong, where people know us, accept us, acknowledge, and love us for who we are.

Maybe that’s what we’re all searching for.


Considerings brought to you courtesy of the amazing Kenya, and magnificent Kristi, of Finish the Sentence Friday.

24 thoughts on “Home in five…

    • Thanks Kitty. I think I’m getting there. I am very slowly inching towards that mythical place where those things come from inside, and stick with you wherever you go ❀️


    • It’s incredible. And incredibly tough. But I guess, as ever, the more we love, the more we open ourselves to hurt. I guess you need to be pretty tough to take all that so maybe I’m tougher than I think.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Yep that is the point of this exercise and I loved yours! Feeling like teacherhost – I love what you did with this Lizzi! Sometimes in five minutes we do jump around and there are parts you might want to expand on in another post another time. It is sad to know that the homeless feel more secure about their street space than actual shelter. 😦

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hehehe thank you! I’m glad you like it. I guess as an exercise in finding out what’s in the brain as a basis for other thoughts, it makes a lot of sense. Maybe.
      And yeah… I think people who live on the streets learn not to be trusting, very quickly. I also get the impression a lot of the help offered tends to be temporary or insufficient, so sticking with what you know is safer in the long run. It’s terrible and an indictment of our society.


  2. Hey!
    Good FTSF post.
    home is an interesting concept…
    You pretty much said it for me* 1:
    We all want a place to belong, where people know us, accept us, acknowledge, and love us for who we are.

    * yeah, what a surprise
    1) …only with more heart, the touch of one able to share with others without guile or (seemingly) effort**
    ** well, of course, I know better than that, but surely there comes a time when conscious and deliberate effort becomes a part of us and, by doing so, we change and become the thing that change was intended to create.

    Liked by 1 person

    • And to be fair, I’ve done that last thing quite deliberately, on purpose. You have seen a LOT of my deliberate evolution but it started long long ago and has been fairly deliberate ever since. I am glad it seems to be coming naturally now. Nice to know it CAN!


  3. This. It’s true that one can have a home with heat, food, and family there and yet it’s not a safe place, or one of comfort or love. Home is safe. It’s known. I especially loved the imagery of knowing the roads in the passenger seat with your eyes closed. ❀ Also YOU LINKED UP!!! YAY!!!!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hehehe your ‘tweet’ worked, and this was a great prompt. I think what Kerry said about homes which don’t feel safe and getting mixed up between the bricks and mortar, and the feelings (as a kid) is really true. I thought my childhood home was HOME, but also it was constant and very damaging warzone. So it wasn’t. That really resonated deeply and kinda made me remember why I loved blogging so much – that sudden recognition.


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