Home: a place or a feeling?

Home takes on such different forms for everyone: for most, it is made of bricks or wood, for some, it's wherever they pitch their tent.

It is a geographical space, the place we call "home", but not only. It is the familiarity of the streets, the smells of cooking, the smile of the people we love.

We can rebuild homes, re-create homes, find new homes. Or we can be home-less, when we try to put our roots down into a soil that doesn't agree with us or that doesn't want us.

Our western world, and Australia in particular, has created a whole generation of people who migrate, often by choice. What is home then, when our life is about moving to a different country or a different city every few years?

We can hold on to the original home, the one we grew up in, or where we felt "home" for the first time. That feeling of belonging somewhere is precious, yet comes with a heavy price-tag of longing when we are far, longing for that easy familiarity of space and culture and language.

When we know that we won't stay, we often choose not to put down roots, because we remember from the first time we left home how painful it is to cut those in order to be able to leave. So we may decide that our home is wherever we go with our loved ones. Home becomes the small microcosm of whom and what we can take with us.

What if "home" could be instead what we share with others? What if it were not a space, not a smell, not a taste, but a feeling? A feeling of comfort, of being where we want to be?

I imagine that we would end up with many homes over the course of our life instead of just one, all the places where we have lived and truly "met" others. I imagine the richness of our minds, being familiar with more places, more cultures, more people...

What if "being home" were a choice we made, every day anew?

Skype sessions - letting technology be my friend

I used to be reluctant about using Skype in my work, it seemed like an unnecessary gimmick; until I started going overseas every few months for family reasons, and needed to stay in touch with my existing clients.

So I started skyping whilst I was overseas. Then a few clients were referred to me - who happened to live in Europe and Asia. Suddenly I had "Skype-only" clients, which in hindsight fits perfectly with the fact that I offer therapy not only in English, but also in French and German (my cultural background).

These are the things that surprised me:

First, how good the technology has become (provided my and their WiFi are working properly).

Second, that it is truly possible to build rapport, and a therapeutic relationship, without actually meeting in person.

Thirdly, and that one was more unexpected, that there was a real feeling of security for my clients, being able to Skype from their home. The flip-side to this is I can't control their environment like I do in my office, so theoretically, they could be interrupted by people on their end.

The drawback for me? At this stage, there isn't really one. Being able to hear a client, and see their facial expressions in real-time is just about as good as in real life. The only senses that miss out are touch and smell, which are kind of irrelevant in therapy (or so I would hope).

So the old saying is proving true: where there is a will, there is a way. If you want help, and ask for it, it will be available - but perhaps in a slightly different shape than you expect.

Reaching out - and being truly heard and seen - has become possible for anyone connected online.

Maybe the Internet isn't just for watching cat videos and porn after all?