Home is where the heart is?

If home is where the heart is, I am fundamentally confused.

My heart is scattered… if that is even possible. But…How does it work out then; home is where a majority of the heart is? So how do I know who has the greater part? Or can I even know that?

The absurdity of these questions boils down to the eternal dilemma of figuring out where one belongs (which to be honest, tends to plague me with regular intervals).

There is more than one place in the world, where the sight of the natural scenery makes my eyes tear with profound emotion, and where my heart can come to rest. I have no one home with exclusivity. Then again, might there be a difference between feeling comfortable, familiar, and not a stranger, and the feeling of being at home?

Some people make you feel at home, where ever you might be; in the deepest of jungles or in the roaring city, you will still feel safe and content; as if you are where you are supposed to be. And I ask myself; is home really a place or a person?

When do I actually feel at home? Home, has for me, a sense of personal identification. Home is family. Where home is, or who home is, in one way or another, has to appeal to the essentials of my personality. I have to be able to see how I could fit into the various contexts; cultural, social, practical, and also how I could have been shaped by these very same contexts. It is not only a question of finding a ‘common denominator’; most places will offer you that option, it is about finding yourself in large parts of the contextual frameworks which constitute what you call home. It is about seeing your history and your future in their very evolution.

If this is fairly straight forward, why am I still confused then? Because; in addition to the one or two places in the world where I feel profoundly at home, there is the home that I build for myself; education, career, apartment…the list goes on. Everything that is mine is here, in London. When I go to my house, this is where I find it.

However, as much as love London, this is not home to me, in the sense that my heart tells me differently; the views do not speak to me. This is home…for now. I feel comfortable, I don’t feel a stranger, I can navigate. I’ve created myself a history here, and I might even be building a future, but truth be told; I’m not quite sure how I feel about that. I am not 'at home'.

On the other hand, I am with someone (in London) who makes me feel loved, happy and content, in whose presence the importance of the physical location tends to diminish (but not vanish). I am exactly where I’m supposed to be…

…So…if home is where the heart is; where is home for me?