I don’t consider myself a person of faith, but one thing that I do remember from my early years’ religious schooling is a reference to Jesus getting angry in the temple because he saw it being used as a market, stating furiously it was a misuse of ‘his father’s house’. I’d never given much thought to this for years, but recent events have given me cause to think about both what prompts our anger and the use of our own houses – and how specifically we define our ‘homes’.
The word ‘home’ has a very specific meaning and feeling in the English language. It conjures up a feeling of coziness, warmth and love, a place where we find peace and tranquillity (at least in principle), where we grow up or we settle down, sometimes with our own partners and families, later in life. It’s quite different from the word house or flat which defines the physical building. Some other languages have similar words but there is something peculiarly English about the feeling of the word ‘home’. There is an old saying that ‘an Englishman’s home is his castle’.
As I’ve mentioned in earlier blogs, I worked for much of my career in the field of social housing (primarily in finance) and met and engaged with many tenants on the various jobs and projects I worked on and at events, conferences and meetings as well as on various complaints panels whilst I was a volunteer board member on a local housing association (Wandle). I also did a 10- day stint volunteering with Crisis for Xmas locally 5 years ago. I had some experience first-hand of the difficulties of living on the breadline, after my parents split up and my mother took me and my two younger brothers to live in a one bed flat in Bath for a few years from the age of 5.
However, we later settled in Wimbledon, and I was fortunate to have a good state supported school and university education. I worked hard, had a son with my wife and returned to settle into a nice home locally back here. Things have changed in the last couple of years, but they and other family members (including my 87-year-old mother) are close by and my amazing local football team and other facilities (eg the common, parks, theatres etc) are all within walking distance. My house and this community still feel like home for me despite recent events.
But some people don’t settle (Jesus after all was a bit of traveller) and their homes, their need for that warmth and love, peace and tranquillity, will sometimes manifest itself quite differently, perhaps through the company they keep, a pet, a space or some other way. Shelter appears at the base of the classic hierarchy of needs alongside food, water etc, then safety and security before we get to love and belonging – which perhaps we most closely associate with ‘home’.
But if you’re vulnerable and ‘homeless’ and then given the opportunity to set roots, that instinct in some people will I suspect, kick in. Maybe when we’re in our 20’s and early 30’s even, and still exploring the world, the idea of setting down roots isn’t as strong but as we grow older that instinct for settling can become stronger and more paramount to our well-being, particularly if we’re less well off financially. The ‘nesting’ instinct can still be there long after the physical ability to develop a family of our own, something that I’ve learnt very recently despite my career.
For those of us who have been fortunate to purchase our own property and develop our own homes around a strong financial base, the ‘castle’ instinct can become dominant especially if you’ve been the breadwinner and seen your own children grow up there too. And like Jesus, seeing your house misused can generate feelings of righteous anger when that hospitality, trust and generosity is abused by a dishonest and over-encroaching interloper. Speaking personally, I’ve always liked offering my house for short stays / lets, meetings and parties (my separated wife Jil did too) but I’ve recently and belatedly come to realise that, even more than that, I also need it as my home: my own personal place of peace and tranquillity.