Home
‘Home’ returns many definitions when seeking its meaning on the interwebs, all dependent on the context in which one uses it. The definition that most closely resembles my feeling of ‘home’ (in the way in which I intend to use it in this post) is the adverb: “deep; to the heart” (dictionary.com. accessed 06/12/2023). This definition of ‘home’ is how I feel about Scotland. For the longest time, I felt home was wherever my family was. Then, I considered home was where my “domestic affections” (as Mary Shelley refers to them in Frankenstein) were. However, despite that domestic life disintegrating, Scotland is still (and always will be) home.
The pull to Scotland was always intense. Without sense or reason, I felt compelled to come here. When I finally made this happen in 2019, much followed. Many life transitions, some ‘milestones’ that modern society considers part of growing but, above all this, was the coming home to myself. I realised, once achieving that dream, I could look at and begin to deal with all the trauma that propelled me towards it. The growth that occurred was akin to the growing pains that some feel in adolescence. The difference being, the growth was more spiritual and ethereal, rather than physical. Tried and tested by life, when given the opportunity to follow the usual route when domestic affections dissipate, I chose the more unpopular route of taking full responsibility for my part, refusing to blame and vilify. This experience was (and continues to be) incredibly painful. However, it is both necessary and beautiful.
This time last year, I recall walking, taking everything in and being perfectly content yet, all the beautiful scenery in the world could not replace the need for community and family. At that moment in my life, towards the end of a very complicated year, that is what I needed most. I have always desired the simple life. I never aspired for fame or fortune. Any designs I had for either of those in childhood were so I could earn enough to give it away and help those who needed it more than I, never for myself. The business mindset does not come easily to me, so I aspired to be “in the trenches,” as it were, endeavouring to be of service when one feels that all hope is lost, alone, and isolated in the world. Not so I may rescue them, no, merely to be a fellow traveller, sitting alongside them as they navigate the darkness.
Home to me is simple. I view it as having only what one needs and doing my best to help or be of service to those who need it along the way. This is why when presented with the opportunity, I did something out of character and had the actor Billy Boyd (who portrayed the hobbit Pippin in “Lord of the Rings”) autograph my Wonky Bothy. I remember seeing several bothies when walking The West Highland Way in 2018. Occasionally, there stood a small cottage at the foot of the mountain, and I remember thinking: that would do me. Mr. Boyd graciously indulged in a bit of chat about my village in rural Scotland, and that evening I cried myself to sleep, missing Scottish culture, the people, the hills, and the wild, dramatic countryside (and weather). Grateful for the conversation, I wanted to have a token to remember that moment, when deeply missing my home, I was able to engage in conversation with a native of the country. Which is why I had him sign my Wonky Bothy. Every time I look at it, I will recall the joy of discussing my Scottish home with a native Scot, after the absence of such an interaction for quite some time.
Although I did not want to give up my property in Scotland, it did not fit with my personality to have such a big place with several rooms just to myself. The sort of person who would be quite content with a one-bedroom, it made sense that I let it go. I will own property one day once again in Scotland but, at the moment, home will just have to be in my heart.