My first sunrise back home. Still jet-lagged, I was up at the break of dawn and caught the sun as it was rising from the East.
Home. Home? Where is home?
In recent years, I have been shuttling back and forth between the US and the Philippines, taking up residence in either place for certain amount of time. Are both homes? Is the place where one lives home?
They say that home is where the heart is. I have left my heart in so many places. And I have given my heart to so many people. Are all those places then all my home?
Perhaps home is where one sees himself eventually settling down. And right now, where I am is where I see myself as settling down. And yet, my life has been one journey after another. One uprooting after another, I am not totally discounting the possibility of another uprooting happening, late in my life though it may be.
There is a certain restlessness inside of me that seeks rest. But even as I find rest some place, my heart soon becomes restless again. Is home then where I find rest?
There is no thought more comforting for me the the thought of coming home. Even if home may seem fuzzy to me right now, it comforts me to think of coming home eventually. Even finally.