Home

Written in August 2013

As some of you already know, it’s been a pretty difficult week for me because I got a horrible cold that knocked me off my feet. I’ve been stuck in bed blowing my nose every few minutes and coughing up a storm.

On the plus side, I’ve been immersed in many different worlds from watching so many movies! While I haven’t had any energy to leave the house, I’ve had time to myself to just rest and relax. Considering that school starts on Monday I feel that this rest was something I needed to get mentally ready.

Until this week, I don’t think that I fully understood what “hey everybody, I’m moving to the Netherlands for a year!” really meant. Packing up some clothes and belongings, saying goodbye to everyone you know, and getting on a plane to fly across an ocean sounded a lot more simple to me than it has turned out to be. But don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a bad thing at all.

This experience has had a great impact on my perspective of “home” and what that concept really means. I’ve always considered home to be the place where I lived with my parents, where I had all of my belongings, where I could retreat to after a long day at work or school, the place that had my cozy bed. I realized though, that for the past two months I’ve felt like I was floating, not really grounded anywhere or in anything at all. I no longer felt like I had a home, or at least not one that was a short drive away. I felt a bit lost.

Last week though, I heard something that really resonated with me: “The world is my home.” I realized that no matter where I am, I don’t need to miss home because I am home. Home is where one chooses to make it. Two months ago, home was in Abbotsford. Last month, home was in Arlon. Today, home is here in Rotterdam. I don’t know where my home will be next year, but I don’t feel worried about it anymore.

By: Oana Salcescu