Hiraeth

Hireath: (n) a homesickness for a home you can't return to, or never was.

It has been about two weeks since I've been back from winter break. Going home for what felt like FOREVER made me 1) realize how much I missed my family and 2) realize how much I heart APU.

When I moved in 5 months ago, posters filled my dorm and the hype crew at my new school yelled "WELCOME HOME!" Every part of me didn't want to let go of the dope little hyphy life I was living in the Bay Area, but at the same time, I was so excited to start this new adventure at The Zu.

Now I'm stuck.

What is home?

This is my life- I live in a place for four months, then come home for a month, only to go back and live there for another four months, to come home for another three and then repeat the cycle all over again (give or take a few weekend trips here and there). I have this conflicting emotional pull in trying to define the concept of "home" that just becomes a hot mess of feelings and fellowship.

Going back "home" to the East Bay for winter break was much different than going back for Thanksgiving. I had a more time to be present in the only place I've ever known. I tried to fit in, maneuvering and molding myself back to this "old life", however I quickly realized that unbeneficial backtracking was inconceivable. I thought that a month off from dining points and chapel requirements would give me a sense of freedom, but in reality, it was not that AT ALL.

What is home?

I realize that the majority of my friends are now scattered all over the United States and all have a common place, Azusa Pacific, where we can see one another whenever we wanted.

My fergalicious ball of spunk that I call my roommate.

My hot floormate Sahara and her boyfriend along with all his buddies.

The tribe: Britteny, Brooks, Hannah, Jake, Weston, and Jordan.

My Second East and LAC girls...

There's so many people who have made such a big impact on me already that I feel so blessed and humbled to even be acquainted with.

I took that for granted with the friends that I still have back home- Getting to see them every day, going on spontaneous adventures, being close... leaving for college was my wake up call that life doesn't have a pause button. Their lives are going on too, and attempting to salvage the friendships that really are important is difficult. There's no such thing as "hanging out" anymore, it's more "catching up" because I'm not talking to these people on a regular basis. I try to stay in touch with as many people as I can, but then the craziness of college gets in the way, and I feel like I neglect those who I really do care about back home, and I feel like I could be doing better...It's my difficult reality that I'm still trying to figure out. These people who used to be "my home" are now 300+ miles away from me and it's hard to be as close, relationally, as I'd like to be. That being said, I do have some pretty incredible best friends back home who do reach out to my, and vice verse, and it makes the whole "long distance relationship" thing a tiny bit easier.

What is home?

Eating at Los Cerros pretty much weekly, going to my home church that I grew up in, binge-watching Netflix with my neighbor who I have known my entire life, driving down The Dam Road... That's what I consider home. Or that's what I used to consider home...

I honestly don't really know what home is or is supposed to be.

Even being home in actuality, a physical place of refuge... THAT was weird. Not hearing girls on my hall blast music till 1 am or hearing my roommate's ringtone "Hotline Bling" go off at the most inconvenient times... Plot Twist- her hotline blings ALL the time and it is SO annoying. Oh, and the weirdest thing about being home was the toilets- they don't flush on their own... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I have come to terms that my physical home is and always will be changing, but the foundation of which my home will be in utter consistancy for me is my family. Wherever they are, that's home.

San Francisco, Bay Area: Home. Southern California: Home. Africa: Home.

Home is getting the privilege to hear my father preach on a Sunday morning. Home is having a wonderful conversation with my mother and losing track of time because of how much I value the time we get to talk. Home is helping my soon-to-be hipster of a brother match his beanie with his joggers and finding a sick shirt to go along with it. Home is the simplicity of playing in the hallway with a giant blue ball and watching The Disney Channel with my sister. Home is even spending some pretty rad quality time with my dog on an evening walk.

I got so caught in the idea that home had to be this physical, tangible environment that was "comfortable" to me, that I feel like I completely missed the mark and therefore never had a solid answer.

So when I ask myself, "What is home?"...

Home is the heartbeat of four individuals and one K9. Wherever they are placed on this earth...

that will always be home.