What about my home?

In my first few blogs I have been getting into serious debate about the meanings of home to relocating peoples...and realised I have not explored, here anyway, what home might mean to me.
Have I relocated to NZ? yes...as a child. And from childhood onwards, I've moved house over 20 times now (and counting).
So relocating is part of my life's pattern, part of what I've come to expect every few years.
Part of my norm, my 'usual' and not a bad part at all.
Much of the positives about moving house are about the way each new home comes to mean 'home' to me.

At what stage after the move do I look forward to coming back to my house because it will feel like 'home'?
When I'm travelling home in the traffic, hungry and weary at the end of the day, what is it about my 'home' that I am looking forward to experiencing?

Some of my thoughts over the last 15 months in this new place of home:

...The sunsets, sitting on the balcony, feet on the railings, silently soaking in the largeness of the light out there. Looking further, past those near office buildings- upwards and outwards to a red- streaked stretch of wide, quiet sky.

...I'm safe, I'm up high, there's noone above me...it seems physically safe here. Noone looks in, walks past, knocks on my door at odd hours - just getting into the building isn't easy. It lends a welcome veneer of safety anyway. I'm grateful every day for my veneer. A choice and freedom.

...It's so quiet, so free of unexpected, uncontrollable noises. No dogs, children, lawnmowers, leaf blowers, neighbourhood parties...(well, maybe an occasional Friday night!).

... It's just big enough for one. For me and there's no room, no guilty empty spaces suggestive of guests to fill them. Not even a fold down sofa bed... There's choices and freedom from choices.

... Afternoon sun-filled rooms, coming home to warm furniture, orange chairs turning soft and golden, warm breezes drifting aimlessly in around the floor, tired warm dry air over me.

...Clean, plain creamy walls, calm and uncluttered, able to let my mind wander, to think and dream.

...Safety in hearing other neighbours coming home too, knowing I'm tucked inside my warm golden room. By myself, but not alone. Choices and freedom from choices.

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