"And they took offense at him. But Jesus said to them, "Only in his hometown and in his own house is a prophet without honor." Matthew 13:57
If Home is where the heart is. I'll give you two guesses where mine abides.
My hopeful little 340 square foot home just went up in flames...figuratively.
Who says you can't go home?
Marvin Gaye said it best...."I'm the type of boy who is always on the roam. Wherever, I lay my hat, that's my home."
Maybe the same "they" that said familiarity breeds contempt.
Actually that was Aesop. Or sometimes credited to the ultimate coiner of phrases, Mark Twain.
Referring that we (mankind) have a human tendency of looking down on those closest to us. Or the more you know about someone or someplace, the easier it is to find faults.
I believe Dorothy had it right initially when she went searching for vibrant adventure and a colorful challenge versus the no place like home crock....
Yep, here's where the jade shines through.
I did not grow up in the same house in the same small town, with the same friends. and siblings sharing the same DNA. We did not sit at family dinners discussing current events. I didn't go off to college to return to my childhood room intact. We moved. My parent's divorced, apartments rented, houses sold, world's split, the step sisters came, the stepdad left, the half brothers were born, the girlfriends went. And we all ate our own separate (sometimes together) bowl of extended dysfunction...
I do not relate to home for the holidays nor family traditions.
But as I wanderer, I recognize the isolated feeling that accompanies the return.
The return to the routine, maladjusted, status quo as we all know it.
It is humbling....Reminding me that no man is an island.
According to Alabama,
Down home, is where they know your name and treat you like family.
Is this always a good thing?
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