In a troubled world the freedom to walk home & know it will be there is not to be taken lightly.
It will soon be Christmas Day and many people are thinking of home. Walking home, sailing home, even flying home. Getting home come what may. So I’d already decided that for my Sunday walk this week I’d get on a random bus, get off miles away from here and then walk home. Simple and always a joy to do.
Then just as I’m about to walk round to the bus stop Cerys Matthews plays a song on her BBC6 programme that’s so beautiful it stays with me all day on my walk. It’s called ‘Bound for Lampedusa’ by The Gentle Good and is about being driven out of your home and setting off for a new one you may never find. It’s for everyone waiting to walk out of Aleppo into uncertainty, through the meltdown of human decency and kindness that is Syria this Christmas. Maybe you’d like to listen to the song as you read the rest of this walking meditation about home:
The bus I get on is the 68. At the stop by our house it was either going to be that or the 62. So not that random then.
I’ve spent a good amount of time around here recently with my Coming Home partner Jayne Lawless looking at empty places we might turn back into homes again.
We’ve seen a good many houses left empty so long they’re going to cost a lot more to do up decently than we’ve yet raised the investment for. We will though. We can see how much our idea and these homes are needed.
Both of these places now the property of Liverpool Football Club (Though Beautiful Ideas now have another community car park along where Notre Dame school used to be.)
Why isn’t the Vernon Sangster being replaced? Home is more than just a house. Home is a whole place. With places to go, places to play, places for sport. So come on LFC. Sort it.
Home is walking around a place 60 years on and remembering tiny details seen from your pram.
In the 1950s we lived in two shared houses along here. I can’t remember the first one though I’m told he bred dogs.
Though I could be wrong. It was certainly along this end, close to Goodison.
Home is standing in the front window every other Saturday afternoon watching 70,000 people pounding along the street to watch Everton.
Home is the street you play in and the corner you nose around to see where the world begins.
Along here we are now on site with our first Coming Home house.
We are so happy about this. For the family, for the owners, for the house itself and for our idea. Just an idea until now. But now it’s a real place, and before many more weeks people will be walking home to it.
Home is the first place you call your own. With the first person you love so much you want to live with. Gathering your furniture. Learning how to cook and get on with each other.
Home is places to gather, places of freedom to worship, places for reflection and sanctuary.
This one, The Glebe, is being done up as a hotel by my friend Terry May, part of the Coming Home support team.
‘Good time collectables’ is great for second hand LPs and CDs. And ‘Off Your Cake?’ Maybe the cakes have a lot of alcohol in them?
Are they a Walton thing then?
Home is also pride of place, making it your own. So it rocks?
And home is your own stories of what’s happened to you in a place.
In an argument with a bus.
But now it’s time for that al-fresco lunch I’ve promised myself.
Several of these are my friends still. And Miranda is part of the Coming Home support team.
Home is a network of friendships and memories. Like standing outside Christopher Street today and hearing all of their voices and their laughter and their determination. This was one of the greatest teams of housing workers ever assembled.
Starting to think of my route home. When suddenly…
Home is being surrounded by people you know, somehow.
So I wait here for the next 26 bus. Which drives me through Anfield and Kensington and drops me off at the top end of Smithdown.
Home is somewhere you know your way around.
By war, politics, intolerance and cruelty in Aleppo. And by short-sighted political and academic theories and stupidities here.
Home is not your housing market, not your public policy, not yours to take.
Home is having an opinion. Home is being old enough to know and say that this was just wrong.
And home is my freedom to do all of this. To choose to walk home in the place that I’m from. To lose that freedom would have seemed unimaginable to me. But my Liverpool is your Aleppo. Is your so many places where people have been driven from their homes.
Well this year I have walked home. To a place where all the work I will now do is about home. Home as a human right.
Home as a human right, the final thought of this walking home meditation. A place to be. Somewhere secure for you and your love. For your children to grow. For your life to be.
For your books, for your records, for your recipes and memories. We are all walking home.
Great stuff Ronnie (as always)
Home is the most important thing we have. It’s our place of safety and where our most precious people are. I’m so very upset for the people of Aleppo.
That Cullen Street garden is where I was born. The middle planter is on the spot of our living room (we called it the kitchen and what would be called a kitchen now was the back kitchen)
We had to go into Greenleaf Street and turn right into an entry, then into our backyard. Kitchen and back kitchen were behind Sayers shop and the bedrooms upstairs. No toilet. That was in the back yard. I’ll be 63 in February and I still appreciate indoor facilities!
Basic as it was, those displaced people in Aleppo would be delighted with it. I hope every day that they’ll find help and peace. xx
I hope and pray the same thing Cathy. By the way, we’re exactly the same age. I’m 63 0n 20th January. And I thought I’d grown up in a better world.
Hi Ronnie,
Yes, thoughts turning to home this week, though it’ll be close to New Year when I walk through those familiar front doors. I do get a little nostalgic for home comforts at this time of year.
I heard the Gentle Good on Sunday too. I’ve got his album from a few years ago, which is just as beautiful as this track, and which also conjures up not a few bittersweet emotions.
Keep up the good work. Great to see the photographic cross-section of the city!
Really lovely reading Ronnie, makes me miss my Liverpool home and the 9 years I spent there, looking at those familiar streets. Walking home and the concept of home, in amongst all the stories of displacement and violence, set aside our Christmas mania is a really mindful idea, thank you.
Enjoying reading your blog as a whole, I stumbled across it somehow, but our paths did cross on the School for social entrepreneurs where you helped me write my values – I found them the other day too and they are still very current which is reassuring to know!
Thank you for your lovely words and glad you’re generally enjoying the blog.
I remember you from your SSE days in Liverpool (making clothes, recycled clothes?) and I’m glad to hear your values are still the same. If we got them right, and it sounds like we did, they will never change.
Such a great post Ronnie, and what a wonderful song to go with it. I’m always seeking the idea of home, as I left Wales in 1975, ostensibly for a 16 month contract teaching in Australia, and never went back to live there. It wasn’t intentional, jobs and friendships led me to where I am today. But I always struggle to define, and find, home.
Thanks for these useful thoughts. And for sharing your life with us. I must also add that Sarah’s kayaking triumphs led me to try kayaking around the beaches at Railay in Thailand last week. It was a marvelous way to experience that spectacular coastline.
Thank you. Glad you’re enjoying the blog and that Sarah’s inspired you to try sea kayaking.
A really beautiful and moving piece, Ronnie. Totally with you on all you describe as what is ‘home’. A very peaceful, productive, happy and laughter filled 2017 and may ‘Coming Home’ be a runaway unignorable success. It absolutely deserves to be!xxx
Thank you for these lovely words Lindsay. Great wishes for you in France in 2017, tous ensemble!x
Just stumbled upon this. Thank you!
You’re very welcome Tony.