WHERE IS HOME?

I've been asking myself this question because last week I went back "home", to my biological home, the one that gave me birth, where my family is, where my mother tongue is, where I put my feet on the ground for the first time.



My parents' house, no language barriers, the familiar smell, the perfume my mum puts in the wardrobe for my clothes, the sound of my father's snoring when he sleeps on the couch, sharing secrets with my sisters, the belly of my six months pregnant cousin, my sick friend in her pyjama, my mum's pumpkin soup, the fresh vegetable from the grove, and then the mountains and the colours of the autumn, the cold air on your face, my old but loyal car, and much, much more!
Of course that's home!

But then I went to Verona for three days, for a dancetherapy meeting, and the moment I first stepped into the door, I felt home again: the familiar music, the colours of the people's clothes, the smell of the incense, my teacher and friend, the hugs, smiles, eyes, hands, tears, sweating, laughing, the weight of another person's body, the contact with another person's skin, the contact with the floor (sometimes a bit painful), the sense of fulfillness and freedom, and then dancing, dancing and even more dancing! Isn't this a wonderful home, too?


After that I went to Milan to take my flight. I woke up at 5.00 a.m. to get there on time. I survived the sleepless night, the morning cold air slapping my face, the traffic and the check-in queue with my 20 Kg suitcase (not one gram more not one less!), just to find out that my flight had a delay of more than 4 hours. Life has a wonderful way to remind you how flexible you should be, doesn't it?

Not too bad: after a 2 minutes disappointment, I chose to take it with philosophy and just enjoy my time at the airport. The most surprising thing is that, even there, I found a piece of my home: I found it in the kindness of a shop assistant, in a French family passing by, the jokes of some teenagers, a small child learning how to make her first steps, an old man falling asleep on a chair, some cypriot friends laughing together (probably flying back home?), pleople coming and going, stopping or just passing by, faces, histories, so much humanity! So much home!

Finally, the plane, the take-off, the gentle voice of a steward, the landing and...home again!

This time  it's another home, the one I've been living in, in the past 4 months. Again, the moment I step inside the door, everything is familiar: Doris, Lenka, Pablo, the miaowing of cats, Iron Man, my room, something or someone new in the house, old things, new things, presents, food, sharing, laughing, and the sense of deep relaxation and happiness you have when you can just be yourself!

I remember a poem my mum wrote to me, wich says:

"Ogni terra è la mia terra, 

ogni paese è il mio paese, 

ogni lingua è la mia lingua, 

in ogni punto dell'universo sono a Casa."

"Every earth is my earth,

every country is my country,

every language is my language,

in every corner of the universe I feel Home"  

Dedicated to all the pleope who make me feel home!

GRAZIE! THANK YOU! ΕΥΧΑΡΙΣΤΩ! HVALA! DĚKUJI! GRAZAS! MERCI!