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Regis Auffray

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Where's Home?
by Regis Auffray   
Rated "G" by the Author.
Last edited: Sunday, September 19, 2010
Posted: Monday, September 13, 2010

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An article by Sha'Tara, a local writer and friend.

Where's Home?

[thoughts from     ~burning woman~      by Sha'Tara]
There are many concepts used by Earthians that, upon scrutiny, actually make not sense at all, yet are globally accepted as true .  Love, of course, is an obvious one; perhaps the most used and believed-in concept of all.  Yet for all that, a truly meaningless term.
And here's another, also very important: home.  If you don't think about it, it's really a very fine idea, a great concept: home.  But what does it mean?  Nothing, unless...
Well, unless you mean a house you happen to be inhabiting, where you usually go to eat, or sleep, and perhaps where members of your family also reside, or pets, or... ?  When we use the term "homeless" what are we saying?  We are saying that the homeless have no place to stay the night, no house or apartment to go to, no legal address.  So, a legal address is home.
Home could mean your place of birth, like a home town, or another country.  Home for the holidays used to mean a family gathering at the family farm, or the parents' home, the place where you lived as kids.  It can be a place you're from, or where you pay the rent or the mortgage.  So one could have many homes, but one could not just have any place as home. 
To an Earthian there seems to be no confusion.  Home is home, and it doesn't matter what is meant, it's what is.  But to a non-Earthian this is all very childish, full of confusion; full of emotion.  It doesn't really explain what a home is.
Let me try to explain how I see this.  I live (or I could say, live in) parallel lives.  One of those is at least as important, or involved, as this physical one I live locally—that is, here.  In that parallel life, I have chosen to live "on the street" so to speak, because I cannot be bothered with the upkeep of a place that I don't need.  I do have a permanent address, at a hotel, for convenience, for the law, and where mail can be sent.  The "stuff" I own that I cannot carry in a tote bag, I keep in a rented locker.  Money, of which I have always more than I need (because long ago I learned the trick of simply "having money") I keep in a bank account.  In that life I have no family, no relatives that I know of and I also choose (a choice that must be made constantly) to remain single, unattached, free to come and go as I please. 
If you've read this far, you would probably think (apart from the obvious: that I'm a crazy individual with too much imagination) that I do not have a home.  And that's where you would be very wrong.  My home is here, because I'm here.  Not down that street, or over on the north side or wherever, just here, where I happen to be.  I'm never trying to get somewhere else, either back to my home country, or some "home for the holidays" or an apartment in a downtown high-rise.  I do not go away from "home" to go vacationing somewhere else because for me there is nowhere else, and if I did go thinking I'd be somewhere else, there'd be no there, there.  I'd still be here. 
Last night, still in that parallel life, an encounter asked me if I'd accompany him to his place.  "Unless you have to go home, of course."  he quickly added. 
I remember smiling and he saying, "What?  Did I say something funny?" 
And I said, "Yes, but only to me.  I am home, right here.  And if I go with you, I'm still home.  Home is where I am."  
Typically, he said, "I don't understand what you mean." 
"It's OK," I said.  You don't have to understand, you only have to listen to what I said and accept that as simple fact."
"But it makes no sense to me.  Everybody has a home, or should have a home of their own.  A private place."
"And that's where you complicate things and end up in the endless social mess you live in."
"I don't..."  I cut him off: "You don't understand.  OK, let me put it this way: Earth, for the time being, is my home.  Since there is no place "here" that isn't "on Earth" then it follows that it's all home.  Why complicate it with personal preferences for location?  Why hang on to "special" Earth places that are not available at the moment for whatever reason, be they social, political, financial?  Think of it this way: if I go with you and I'm home, then we can't be strangers to each other.  We live in the same home, we know what's needed to know about each other.  So we have some time together where we are friends, perhaps lovers, perhaps for one night, perhaps a week, who knows?  The point is, we're home."
"But that is the difficult part.  OK, I know I'm in my apartment and that's my home but how do I see you as being equally "at home" when you're with me?  Theoretically, if I accepted you on your terms, that would mean you own half of everything I own.  You are not just someone I picked up, but you are my wife... theoretically of course."
"Now you're getting it; why you have no idea what a home is.  You attach all manners of details to it that destroy the meaning of it.  To me, home is an integral part of being aware, of being alive.  Home isn't necessarily a good or nice place.  Or even a safe place.  It's not a dream, or a less-than-satisfactory set of special relationships defined through social, political and financial, sometimes even religious, mores or constraints.  I am home.  Take that either way. 
"The things you own, or rent, or have, they have nothing to do with being home.  I didn't say I wanted to go in business with you, and make no mistake about it marriage is a business, I said I would be home with you.  You cannot own home anymore than love.  You cannot do home, anymore than you can do love.  These are a state of beingness and the more aware you are, the more obvious this should be to you."    
He let go of my arm and pushed me back, away from him.  "I think I've changed my mind.  You're giving me a headache.  It was interesting talking to you, and for a moment there, thinking we could have fun together.  But you wouldn't be fun, you'd make me question my values and frankly, I don't care to do that, certainly not now."
We parted, as friends, if with some disappointment on his part because he had already formed some attachments, some expectations that would not be met, at least not by me. 
All my lives are teaching tools.  From them I learn about the people I'm interacting with.  What lessons I learn from one life, I bring to bear into the others when applicable, thus continually expanding my awareness on as many fronts as I can handle.  The funny part is, the more I do this, the less confused I am about life.  Everything has an explanation; everything makes sense—the right or wrong of it being something altogether else.  It doesn't require judgment.  When you understand something, you realize "it" could not be other than what it is. 
There are a lot of things going on in my home I totally disagree with.  Many anger and pain me.  Some are amusing and entertaining and many bring joy also—if much too few in my way of thinking. 
Be that as it may, this home of mine is your home also, and home to trillions of uncharted life-forms. A home teeming with life.  When we remove our personal expectations, and the artificial impositions of the Matrix that force us to relate to others in ways that are detrimental to Earth life as a whole, we find this to be a truly fascinating and challenging place.


Reader Reviews for "Where's Home?"

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Reviewed by Jon Willey 9/21/2010
Regis, this is an exercise that extends a challenge to semantics. In everything there is relativity. And in individuals it is tied directly to their value programming processes in youth. Professor Morris Massey would say, "who you are is where you were when". Meaning in his parlance, the person you are as an adult was determined by the environment and value programming your learned up until the age of eight. After that, only a significant emotional event can change who you are. Such as, being caught up in the middle of war. Being put through a violent divorce of your parents. The death of a parent or sibling. Another interesting piece Regis. Thank you for sharing this with me. May you day be filled with love and joy my friend. Jon Michael
Reviewed by Patrick Granfors 9/15/2010
Home is a state of mind, and in general meant to be a pleasant state of mind, or at least an anchor for your psyche. To be sure home is not all cupcakes and ice cream. But even some of my bad experience at home, in retrospect, became part of me. Patrick
Reviewed by M Flack 9/13/2010
Home is where the heart is. A quaint story once spoke of a boy who traveled everywhere his Father And Mothers work took them. Living for the most part in Hotels. When asked if he missed not having a "Home" he smiled and said that he might not always know where they were staying. Or what school he might end up in. But he always knew he had a "Home"

Was expecting a poem. But found a lot more.
Thanks for sharing what has obviously been a very moving and personal experience for you.
Reviewed by - - - - - TRASK 9/13/2010
I Always Said Universe Is Never Ending Sewer And It Ends On Planet Earth,i.e. Now If In Reading Above An Reviews If You Call (Evil)Earth Your Home Then (God) Let Me Out Of This Sewer Pit!

What I Can Agree With Home Is What You Make Of It Even My Hole In Wall Apt I Maintain Atmosphere No Greedy Rich $ SOB Can Afford Not Alone (Pay His Million$ For) Create!

So Until That UFO Lands I Ride It Out At My Desk Then Ramp Drops I Am Gone Pedal To Metal--Burnt Tire Marks Up Ramp Out Of This (Sewer) Holy Hell Earth!

Reviewed by JASMIN HORST SEILER 9/13/2010
You have a most beautiful place, I wish many others would keep their home so sanctified, bless you!
Reviewed by Ronald Hull 9/13/2010
Home is where the heart is, and my heart is with all living thing except humans for their violent, greedy ways.

Reviewed by Chip Bergeron 9/13/2010
Part of me agrees and part of me disagrees. Sure enough, to quote the old proverb, Home is where the heart is...." But I think there is another definition, if you will, of home as being a place where you have roots and attachments. The question is, if you're not comfortable in one, can you be comfortasble in the other???

I've had to live in this particular city for 15 years. In thast sense I guess I am at "home." However, I have an almost visceral longing to return to where I was born and brought up. I miss the place, and I miss the people, more than any one particular person. Physically I have more at stake with where I am now, but emotionallty I can't seem to get comfortable and always wish I were "away."

Present circumwstances make relocation impossible. My hope, thoug, is to return to that area sometime before I die. Sha Taraj would probably think I am impossibly shallow, but there it is, and that's the way I need to deal with it.


Chip Bergeron
Reviewed by Kathleen McDonald 9/13/2010
Regis, I love this work. If all people thought this way how clean the oceans would be and the forests and lands. If all treated the earth as their home.

Reviewed by Ann Marquette 9/13/2010
Hm! interesting and very deep :-) requiring a whole new thought process.

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