Journal Prompt #6

What can you find at home that you can find nowhere else?

Very old photo at our old home

It’s time to get writing again so I’ve broken out the journal prompts once more. Whilst I was scanning the list of prompts I have, this one jumped out and grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me until my head hurt. Not really, but it did get my attention although my head does hurt πŸ˜‰
Home – merely uttering that word conjures different images and emotions for us all. What does it conjure up for you?

When I ask myself what I can find at home that I can’t find anywhere else, I need to break it up into sections.


  • My own bed and pillow.
    Regular readers know just how much I love my bed and I am certain my bed loves me. It has molded itself to the shape of my body so that my rest is more restful and my sleep filled with dreams. My pillow cradles my head like no other pillow can. It has become my old friend.
  • My craft/computer room.
    Whilst other places have computers or craft areas, they are not mine. I have my computer set up how I like it. I know where everything is in this room, even if my family believe I don’t. I have a place for everything – my brushes, fabrics, books, magazines, canvases and other assorted items all have their own little niche and although this room looks disorganised and messy I still know where everything is.
  • My kitchen.
    No other kitchen is like mine. I know which knife is the best to use for different things and which saucepans suit whatever meal I am cooking. I know that my oven is hot and tends to cook things quicker than they should so make allowances for this. I know what herbs, spices and sauces I have in my pantry and just how long those leftovers have been in the fridge. It is set up in the way that is best for me.
  • My water features.
    Okay, technically they are the domain of the Garden Gnome but he put one just outside the window I am currently sitting beside, because he knows how much I love the sound of running water.
  • My garden.
    Another technicality – this area is also the domain of the Garden Gnome but there is no other garden anywhere in the world that has the Frangipani tree grown from the cutting from the one in my grandmother’s back garden or the rose bush given to us when the Tween was born. No other garden has the Buddha statues that were given to me by the First Born or the lantern I bought from a garage sale. And no other garden gives me the same kind of peace and satisfaction that I have when sitting outside in it.
  • My photos and knick knacks.
    We all have them – photos of our loved ones in frames around the house. Prints and wall hangings on the walls. Trinkets that have been given as gifts or purchased from stores. These are the little things that make my home reflective of who I am.

Emotional & Spiritual

  • Peace.
    Nothing can describe or match the feeling of peace I enjoy when I am in my own home.
  • Safety and security.
    I’m not talking about physical safety, although that is also true. When I am within the four walls of my home, I am safe. The outside world cannot intrude unless I allow it to do so. I know that those who love me are there for me. I am secure in their love.
  • Acceptance.
    When I am home, I am accepted for who I am. I have no need to put on a face to the world. Those I love see me ‘warts and all’.
  • Relief.
    As I walk through the front door after returning from anywhere, a sense of relief washes over me. I have returned to where my life is mine and not shared with others who are not loved ones.

I love to travel and be out in the world. I love to explore new places and open my eyes to new things but one of the constants I have in my world (and I know that I am so very lucky to have this) is my home. Although it is sad to return home after a holiday (vacation), a realisation of how wonderful home is returns with each arrival.
They say that ‘Home is where the Heart is’ and that is true. Although many places may feel like home – they never really are unless that heart is there.

41 thoughts on “Journal Prompt #6

  1. Home is definitely a comfort. No matter where I am or what’s going on in life I have to have that sense of a space where I can go and be in a world that’s entirely made up of my choosing.


  2. I love being home. I am not a traveler these days- I like my own bed, my own things. I am always happy to come through my front door and have a coffee at my kitchen table. I love this post, and love the photo.


  3. Your post made me feel warm and fuzzy all over. As much as I love to travel, coming home/being home is a creature comfort like no other. Cooking in the kitchen, weeding the garden and tucking kiddos into bed. “There is no place like home”–I’m from Kansas and live Dorothy’s mantra every day πŸ™‚


  4. A home is where the heart and soul live and feel safe.
    I have changed houses so many times in my life, stopped counting years ago, and it is not that easy to feel like home in a new house. Some houses also seem to be more friendly than others.
    Nice photo and thanks for sharing.


    1. I agree that some houses appear more friendly than others. I have lived in many houses in my life and there are some I recall with fondness and some I have no affection for.


  5. Completely agree! I love my home, it’s peace and love and happiness, it’s my sanctuary and my joy, there is nowhere else in the world that I love to be like I love being at home. I love it most when it’s just the three of us, curtains drawn, in our own world xx


  6. I do believe what you ended with here – pretty much sums up all there is too it – if your heart aint in it – its not home – just a shelter. (and obviously not referring to the contents or locality of the brick and mortar fixture!)
    How sad when the heart does not dwell in the same place the head must ‘rest’ – for no rest can be had. You know the meaning of this only too well dear Suz –
    Thanks for a lovely write πŸ˜€


  7. Home is a unique place. It sounds like you have lived in yours for quite some time? The last house we lived in, I swore I was going to live there until we rotted. Then my husband received a promotion which sent us across the country. Now—this home that we have been in for nearly 8 years–I shall rot in, because there are only things I can find here that I have experienced anywhere else.


    1. We’ve only been in this home for 3 or 4 years now (I can’t recall when we moved in) but I love it.
      It’s not about the walls that surround you but the experience inside that makes it a home hey?


  8. My 2 cents’: I used to share the character Mary’s opinion, as expressed in Frost’s “Death of the Hired Man”: Home is the place where, when you have to go there,/They have to take you in’ (that is to say, a sort of grudging acceptance of rootedness). Happily, though, nowadays I love my home and, of course, my family. Wherever they are, is home–be it a hotel, house, shack, hovel, or hut.:)
    That said, Main Street Rag is currently accepting submissions (through Feb. 28) on a theme of homes/houses; you might think of submitting some of your writing there, as you’ve got a great beginning here with the journal prompt.


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