Homelessness.

I had a conversation recently with a friend about what being homeless must be like. I tried hard to imagine, but of course I couldn’t because I’m blessed to have a place that I can call home So; the only way I could get any sense of what being homeless must be like , was to firstly think what my home really means to me. Writing this piece made me realise just how important having a place to call home is, to each and everyone of us. it symbolizes so much just to be safe and secure.

Now for starters my home is nothing too fancy!!, but it’s mine.It’s the usual run of the mill bungalow made up of bricks and mortar, windows and doors.That’s the physical structure but of course it’s more than all that.

It’s a home that has been full of noise,laughter,tears, memories, lots and lots of memories. It’s quieter now but the memories are embedded in every nook and cranny around the place. Our three adult children still come and go, still have a rummage in the cupboards and fridge and still generally treat it as if they still live there. That’s ok, you see, because to them it will always be home. The familiarity of it is like a security blanket that is both reassuring and safe.

In the busyness of my life I love nothing more than a day home alone.I would go so far as to say, that for me it is essential to my wellbeing. A day alone, in my own space, just pottering, maybe even some cleaning, baking or whatever I choose to do has a wonderful grounding effect on me. When I close that door, put on whatever music I want, maybe even none at all,I can just be totally and utterly myself. The magic is in the fact that I can do anything I want in my own space.

If I feel like walking around naked, I can [I don’t!!]. If I want to sing out loud with the radio at full volume I can [I do, and I can’t actually sing!]. If I want to have a conversation with myself or the dog, I can [I do!, actually some of the best conversations have happened with myself and the dog!!].

You see, it’s the one place where I can be totally and utterly me, which is truly a gift in every sense of the word. In the silence of night time I know every creak, and sound that it makes. The familiarity of this makes me at ease in this space. In the silence of my own home I feel at peace, safe and secure. In the vastness of the world we live in these walls create a sense of me that is vital to my survivorship and wellbeing.

So that’s what home means to me, not having all that just doesn’t bear thinking about, and no one I mean no one deserves that. To all of those who work with the homeless I salute each and every one of you. Personally speaking I havent been involved in any of the wonderful work carried out by these organisations. Hopefully this piece will be my way of helping people to get a sense of what its like to be home less and so may inspire you all to help in ny way possible.