Do you have a home?
Do you think everyone deserves to have a home?
Look at your definition of home.
Does everyone deserve to have the home you defined for yourself?
Do other people have the right to define “home” for themselves?
Do they have the right to have the home they define, if it doesn’t match your definition of home?
What is “home” to you?
You may not know. You may not have thought about it.
You may know precisely what it means to you. It may be a place where you experienced pain. You may want to run as far from “home” as possible.
Where do you run?
You may have spent a lot of time thinking about it, clarifying it, and seeking it in your life.
Do you have that home?
If I ask you what home is, you may say:
— “Family, of course.”
— “Well, wherever your stuff is. Where’s your stuff?”
— “It’s the place I was born.”
— “It’s the place I’ve been living for the past thirty years.”
— “It’s the place I live now.”
— “It’s a place I avoid.”
— “It’s any place I feel welcomed.”
— “I create my own home.”
— “I have no home.”
Is home a structure? A feeling? A person? An action? A smell? A taste?
What role does love play in your definition of home?
If people you love are far apart from each other, one here, one there, which of those places is home?
If your family is far away, but in order to stay safe you need to be where you are, are they in your home or are you?
If your family is here, but “here” is dangerous, where do you go? Is it home?
What circumstances would cause you to leave someone you love?
Is home the place your family has lived for generations?
Is home the place where you grew up?
Is home the place where your children were born?
Is home the place where the trees or the ocean or the buildings embrace you?
Is home a “connection to the land?” Which land?
What role does money play in your definition of home?
Is home the place you’ve chosen for a job?
Is home the place you’ve left for a job?
What role does safety play in your definition of home?
Can a place filled with danger still be your home?
If your family is somewhere safe, but you have to go through danger to reach them, do you go? Are you going home?
If your definition of home is “where I’ve lived for thirty years,” but that place becomes dangerous, would you leave your home?
If your definition of home is “where I keep my stuff,” and your belongings are in a place where you don’t feel safe, is that still home?
What circumstances would lead you to risk danger in the act of leaving your home?
Is home where you feel free?
If you don’t feel free in your home, where do you go?
What circumstances would make you leave your home?
If you had to leave your home by force or by circumstance, what would you miss?
If you had to find a new home by force or by circumstance, what would you hope to find?
If your definition of home is a place of welcome, who do you welcome into your home?
Who do we welcome into our homes, our neighborhoods, our countries, our lives?
Who do we shut out? Do we believe they deserve a home?
If someone doesn’t have a home, where should they go?