Goody Two Shoes Considers Where Home Is

Goody Two Shoes Considers Where Home Is

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Home is where the heart I have heard people say. Maybe that is true. What happens if your heart is spread about a bit or in multiple places . Would that mean I need another heart? Or should I divide the one I have into many small hearts?

I am pondering  these things as I plan a trip to the country of my birth to visit my parents who live in the town and even the neighbourhood where I was raised, where I had my formative years that seem to dominate and have certainly shaped my behaviour and thinking.

I will be going home. Or will I?

Surely home is here in Jerusalem where I have lived for more years than I lived anywhere else. This is where my husband lives and our children consider home. After all, they were raised here, this is their home. They have memories and their own bedroom here.

This is home. Or is it?

I am constantly asked where am I from? That depends where I am at the time ...

I can be from my home country (I hold citizenship and came to here from there) or I can be  from Jerusalem where I live (no citizenship) . Believe me, I can play it to my advantage sometimes.

I can take the easy answer, which is partially true, and quote a line of an old hymn my Grandmother used to sing to me, "This is not my home, I'm just a passing through".

Although somewhat true, the passing through bit seems to be lasting a long time and my life in it could affect where I pass through to!

It is safe to say on an aeroplane I am always going home, whether this way or that way.

On arrival in my birth country, I feel immediately like I have arrived home with a big relief. I look and sound like everybody else, I can read all the signs at a glance. But after a while, I realise I am different .

On arrival back in Jerusalem, I feel and look a bit odd. When I brush with the outside, I feel different, but when I enter my home it is with great relief I can plonk myself down and be me .

I am reminded by the leaders of this country where I live that I do not fit in and really  am not wanted at all. Even so, the richness and blessings of being multi/bi/3rd/differently cultural overcome the awkwardness.

Thought: Identity is a complicated issue.

 
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