Home?

So the trip is over, and I return now "home" to New York. The past few months ending with this stint back in Kansas City have certainly solidified something that I have been mulling over for years. I don't have a sense of home. I don't think that I ever have. When I first went to Harvard, I felt a feeling that was very alien to me, and I thought that I had felt at home for the first time. Perhaps that it true, or it is entirely possible that I have never felt that feeling of Home.

Like most true sensations, I think that without experiencing something you can't be sure what it feels like. Sometimes in the interim you think you feel one thing when in fact you are feeling something else entirely. Love is a perfect example. If you have never been in love, you might feel like you are in love simply when you lust after someone, or perhaps feel an incredible comfort from them. Of course once you are in love, you then get to experience all the different types of love, each one meaning something different and having a feeling that is quite distinct from everything else. I imagine it is the same with the feeling of Home.

I am positive now, that I feel comfortable wherever I am. I am not saying that I couldn't feel out of place living in some specific place, but thus far, I have felt comfortable anywhere I have lived. Some might call this feeling at home. Perhaps. In that case, I suppose I have always felt at home, but somehow I doubt it.

I know for sure that I was happier living in Downtown KC than I was living in the suburbs. I know for sure that I am happier now living in New York than I was in Kansas City. I like the lifestyle better, and I am happier overall because of it. But do I feel more at home? I don't think so.

Coming back to Kansas City made me realize how little I missed the place. I missed people for sure, and I miss going out to my favorite bar (of which I have yet to find a better one for me in NYC), but I don't miss Kansas City as a place. Now that I am finally going back to New York, it is apparent to me that I do miss my life in New York, but I am not sure that I am feeling any less at home. Wouldn't I miss it if it was truly one and only Home?

I am pretty positive that I could maintain a mobile life. I have friends that call three or four places home, living there for three or four months at a time, and going onto different things. Some do it for their careers (one friends does shows for a couple months in each city, every year), while others do it just because they can (Brazil for 3 months a year? Sure!). One wonders if they ever feel at home at any of these places. Are they like me? Do they feel comfortable wherever they are? Does this mean they are at home anywhere? Or are they disconnected? If I make that my life would I feel disconnected? Or would I even notice since I have may have never been connected to begin with.

I do notice that I like having something that is mine everywhere. Something about me enjoys not giving up my apartment in KC, or making my family save me a room at their house. Places that are MINE when I am there. I don't need these for fear of needing to escape, or as a safety net, but something about me enjoys having these places, and makes me want more of them. Perhaps it is just more example of my ego wanting to leave it's mark everywhere, or perhaps that is my own subconscious way of making a little bit of Home wherever I go.

One quote has always stuck out to me from the movie "Sweet Home Alabama." A woman in the show says that you can have both Roots and Wings, in this case chasing your dreams in the big city while still having ties to where you grew up, your "Home." Does that mean that both become the true home? Or will one always be temporary, with that urge people talk about when they say they want to go home? *Thank you Michael Buble.

The cliché phrase that finds it's way into arguing against this idea is that "Home is where the Heart is." If you are with the people you love, then anyplace can be your home. I love my family, but I don't feel more at home when I am where they live than I do in NY. I love my friends, but I don't think that Home is based upon which of my many residences has more friends. Could it be that the lack of romantic love is what I am missing? If I had a family of my own would that make this elusive feeling of home come into existence?

I don't know what Home is to me, or what it will end up being. It could be, much like certain earth-shattering all encompassing love is to some people that I am simply aiming for something that isn't true. Maybe it is that I have always felt that feeling of home, but I carry it around inside me, making each location I encounter my own Home. Or perhaps the places where I find more joy in living are Home and that is what people mean. Possibly, I am still searching. With human emotions sometimes I think it is impossible to tell. The best I can do is keep philosophizing, and take things as they come. I do know that my heart is happy to reconnect with the big buildings, busy streets, and vast diversity that is New York City.