When we hear the word home, it brings something up in all of us.
For some, it’s a flood of memories. A certain smell, a familiar sound, that feeling of walking through the door and knowing you're safe. For others, it’s more of a longing.
A sense of comfort or stillness. A place to return to, or something we're still trying to create.
Sure, home can mean a house. Four walls and a roof. But more often, it’s something else entirely. It’s the feeling of ease. Of exhaling. It’s where you can let go of the day, take off the mask and just be yourself. No pressure. No pretending.
Home is never quite picture perfect. Not in the real way. It’s cushions that never sit straight, the familiar chaos of a lived-in kitchen, the bits and pieces collected over the years that don't always match but somehow belong. It’s laughter in the hallway, arguments in the lounge, music playing while you fold the washing or burn dinner or dance a little when no one’s looking.
It’s all those little moments that stick.
Do you ever walk through the door and smell something that immediately brings you back? Maybe it’s dinner cooking, maybe it’s fresh laundry, or something you can’t quite place but it hits you right in the chest. That’s home. That feeling. It lives in our senses, in our memories. It lingers, even when the space itself changes.
And that feeling of connection, of being grounded—that’s what we keep coming back to. A place to rest. To feel held. To gather yourself when life’s been a bit much. To give back to yourself so you’ve got something left to give to others.
Everyone’s version of home is different. It could be a hot bath at the end of the day. The way your dog greets you like you’ve been gone forever. A warm doona and your favourite corner of the couch. It might even be a person or a memory or a quiet moment alone when you suddenly feel like you’ve landed, even if just for a bit.
We care about how places feel, not just how they look - it’s all part of the Kōdō ethos. Ultimately we believe that home is created in the small moments. The honest ones. The ordinary ones that actually mean something.
So here’s to home. However it looks for you.
May it be soft. May it be yours.
And may you always remember, home isn’t something you have to find.
It’s something you can create, right where you are.