Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Home - A Particularly Complex Concept

The word home can have different meanings for different people: there are those who say that it is wherever you feel good and welcomed, wherever you leave your heart.
In the other hand, there are others that argue that home is a unique place where you have family which makes someone feel great- a SINGLE place; well, despite I agree with both opinions, for me, home is where you reunite with all people you care about and love, doesn’t matter if it is on a physical place (house) or not. Now house “enters” in the discussion. House and Home are not necessarily the same thing, because there can be a home with no house (home-sentimental, psychological/house-physical).
Home is like it has been seen, a little complex and relative item to describe. For me, is a concept that includes safety, warmness, happiness, and relationships. At home someone can be and feel safe and that, an example: when second world war American sailors were coming back, sometimes, there were on the docks, some giant posters with the phrase- “Welcome Home”, this gives for sure “strength” to what I’ve said previously.
In Wikipedia, it is said that home is a place where a person or family lives, perhaps spends much of their time, or where a person is comfortable being. While a house(or other residential dwelling) is often referred to as a home, the concept of "home" is broader than a physical dwelling. Home is often a place of refuge and safety, where worldly cares fade and the things and people that one loves becomes the focus. Many people think of home in terms of where they grew up, or a time rather than a place.
The word "home" is also used for various residential institutions which aspire to create a home-like atmosphere, such as a retirement home, a nursing home , a 'group home' (an orphanage for children or a retirement home for adults), a foster home.
Finishing, I can say that home is simply the place where someone feels familiarized with it and where is with all those he/she most want and feels happy

Labels:

Posted by MiltonR at 11:24 am | | Comments

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Definition of Home

The definition of “home” is very complex and has lots of meanings.

Some civilizations still live in deserts or forests like wild animals and they call it their home. Almost all nuclear families consider that home is where we have our family. The single persons that live alone think that home is where he/she belongs and they’re happy with their independence. In my mind, I still have the same opinion since my parents got divorced: home is where the heart is.

Unfortunately, there are those who don’t know the real meaning of home (specially children) because they are orphans who don’t know their real family and live in different houses and with different parents, and they can be war refugees who live in refugee camps and are exposed to misery and disease. Also, there are those who do not have a home of their own like prisoners and the homeless men and women, and there are persons who miss their home because they’re living in other countries or work so much that they have to sleep in hotels.

In my situation, I have always lived in Lisbon with my father but my meaning of home is where I feel safe, have my own territory and can express my real identity. Sometimes, I feel it when I’m in the faculty because I have lots of friends there and I can express my feelings with some of them. Sometimes, I only feel safe when I spend some time at my boyfriend’s house because I consider his family as mine too and, in his room, I have lots of things that are mine like books and records. But my bedroom is where I have my own territory and I consider it my real home. I know that I will live in another house and get my independence when I start working but the bedroom of my father’s house will always be my real home and I will miss it a lot. So, for me, home is also where I will belong for the rest of my life.

Labels:

Posted by Joana Carlos at 10:10 pm | | Comments

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

A Home of a Wolf



Home is the place of our ancestors. It’s commonly referred to as something cozy, friendly, and where your heart resides. However, for some, home may just be another method to avoid the outside world.

This is the story of a little wolf… “Jeremy”, as the natural park’s ranger used to call him. Still a cub, he was the skittish in the pack. While his other brothers and sisters adventured the outside world beyond the cave where his parents choose to reside, he decided to live an “eremite-like” kind of life. He only went outside mainly to drink water when he was thirsty, or to eat the very few remainings of meat the other wolves left behind after ravishing their prey.
Either raining, snowing, or even on a sunny day, the little cub was rare to be seen outside most of the time.

One day, while the other cubs went for their very first hunt with the pack, something fell right next to the place where “Jeremy” used to sit. He used to call it his “thinking spot”, as he could see all the forest area from above and it relaxed him. He usually picked a subject, pondered over it for a while (sometimes distracted by the sound of running water of the waterfall nearby or the movement and shape of the clouds…) and eventually slept over it, literally...

However, that afternoon, while he was heading to his “thinking spot”, he noticed someone or something had beaten him to it. He approached the fated place without making any suspicious noise and considering each step carefully in order to hide his presence at all costs (something he learned from watching his parents and family from above, bored as hell…).

As he was just two feet near the “intruder”, he noticed his small size and shape. It was fragile, weak and even hungry-looking… it was a bird, a very small one by that matter. “He must have fallen from one of those damn bird nests from above” - he though - “might as well help the poor guy out…”
As he thought that, he picked the little bird from his mouth and looked for something slightly eatable to feed him. “Ha! That might do it!” he thought as he took on sight something that resembled a dead mouse…

He put it next to it, but his reaction was no near what he expected. He was screaming with frightness of his apparent “meal”. “Oh God, what should I do now? Wonder if he’s vegetarian of some sort…” Then he realized; the bird’s parents should now a lot better than him what that puny thing’s meal should be.

He picked it up again, went outside the cave and started to climb the harsh mountain path all the way up (he knew a bit of it, as he memorized a few of its sites by observing it from his “thinking spot” from below, with boredom.
He was scared, no doubt, but then he thought, “What could this little fellow be experiencing? Here I am complaining about how far I am from my lair and this poor soul doesn’t even know where his is?”

With his heart filled with a burst of heat driven by the chance to be someone better, to help someone, and attain a purpose… he adventured through the unknown mountain trail while carrying the little bird on his mouth as if it was his prized possession. He then realized how selfish he was… he was so attached to the comfort of his cave he’d forgot to what a wolf was meant to be: Brave and respectful.

Finally, he knew it was his time to be it; to leave home and become one of them.
And with that, he disappeared behind a pack of leaves, heading to the top…

Labels:

Posted by Anonymous at 12:51 am | | Comments

Home

What can I say to describe Home?

For me my home is located in the past, when I was a child, happy and energetic…

I was born in Cape Vert, on Santiago Isle, and for me the whole island was my house, my home.

I remember that I would love to travel around it, when I would go visit relatives or when it would just be walks with my granddad. It would be a really wonderful feeling and the sun would always go with us.

The favourite place for me would be the beach, where I would often go with my granddad. For those who grow up in an island, watching the sea is certainly a normal and common thing, but for me it would always be special and different, each time I would go there. Every single time I would be introduced to a new thing, a new element.

For me the sea would be magic… I can still remember it: the sun warming my face, the wind dancing around me, bringing the smell that I can still remember, of pure sea water; seagulls flying around, and palm trees singing along with the wind… everything would be magic when I was there, but only when a special person would be with me.

Home is wherever you feel loved, and you love in return, but there is always a place that remains in your heart, no matter how much time has passed, and that’s why my heart is in the past.

Years have passed but I can still remember some of the stories I’d been told at night, or the night sky full of bright stars, or a strong hand being gentle with me and guiding me to a safe sleep.

I can still remember riding an old bike around a so known village, laughing and wishing for it to never end.

Every time I talk about home, I remember my country, Cape Vert, I remember the sea, I remember the clear blue sky the day brings or the starry night sky; I remember happy faces, I remember laughs, I remember sad goodbyes, I remember tears, I remember what I was like and what I’ve become. I remember it all because there is a special person in each and every episode of my childhood: my granddad.

Home is wherever your family is, but your heart has to be there as well, and mine is in Cape Vert.

Labels:

Posted by Geossara Costa at 12:44 am | | Comments