Wherever you are, you are home.

Someone once told me that home is me, that everything we need to feel happy and content is within us. As such, 'wherever you are, you are home'. For the longest time, this notion put me at ease. Whenever I felt the bubbling up of anxiety, the need to get away, I would recite this and remind myself that a place does not dictate where you find home. Instead, your state of mind is the deciding factor in finding your home.

I understand the wisdom in the original concept and am fully versed in the power of one's mind and an out-of-control mind's ability to cause havoc. The irony is that although I agree with the sentiment, I have learned that everyone has a different path to finding home. For some, to find home, you first need to run away. Or so I thought.

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For most of my life, I have lived with a sense of 'looking for a place to call home', a place to belong. It is only recently that I have come to understand this feeling and why for me, it is part of who I am. Now I know that a comment like that may seem loaded and point to things like childhood dramas. That is not the case here, no more than anyone else. Specific childhood experiences have left their mark and affected me, but that is life and the path we find ourselves. Ironically it was only after becoming a father that I started to understand my journey, as well as learning not to judge myself so harshly.

For me, the juxtaposition of home but also running away is a theme that runs through my entire life. Wanting to belong yet running away thinking you will find that belonging elsewhere. Have you ever had the feeling like perhaps you are running away? Or possibly hiding in plain sight? This is a concept that I often think about. Let me give you some context.

Since I was 18, I have spent at most nine months in any one location. Take a minute to let that sink in. For over 20 years, the longest I have stayed in one place without getting on a plane or sailing to another port is nine months. My adult life is folded into 23kg blocks, your standard economy flight luggage allowance. Now sure, in that time, I have been 'based' in places and had a home; however, on average, I would still not spend more than four months there in any calendar year.

I have 'lived' or rented a home for a year or more in Mauritius, France, Spain, Australia, England, Seychelles and South Africa and spent months in many other countries. I have missed birthdays, Christmas and only attended four weddings, including my own. My daughter is ten years old, and I have only been there for five of those years.

At this point, I should clarify that I have absolutely no regrets about my decisions and the journey I have taken. I am fortunate and very grateful for what I have seen and experienced. Do I wish I could have been there more during my child's early years? Of course, but at the same time, my experiences and my chosen path are also what has shaped me as a person and, more importantly, as a father.

Only through these experiences have I gained the understanding necessary to grasp the privilege it is to be a father. My journey has provided me with the knowledge and insight to give her the one thing money cannot buy. That of intentional attention and unconditional love. A love that cares not for the amount of time spent but rather for the state of mindfulness in which you spend that time. As a man, to experience the joy of your young daughter feeling safe enough in your presence to share the excitement of a new school ‘crush’, is to experience a moment of the purest joy and gratitude. This is to know that no matter how much you may have been ‘running’, you have done something right.

I understand now that in those moments, my attention and unconditional love etch a mark in her subconscious mind and help place another brick in her emotional foundation. The very foundation that will allow her to one day venture out on her own journey, equipped with the understanding that no matter where she might find herself, she is always home.

So at this point, I ask myself, am I still running? Perhaps. Am I still searching? Without question. Will the search ever stop? Almost certainly not. But that’s ok because all that searching, all those encounters continue to create placeholders of lessons learned, roads travelled, and wisdom now gained.

I know now I was not running. I was, in fact, living.

So if you find yourself running or looking to belong. Rest easy because, as it turns out, wherever you are, you are home.

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