I heard from a childhood friend that my house was a safe haven for him when we were kids and I didn’t even know it. That my house was a safe haven for anyone during those years is surprising to hear, since my older brother was always stoking conflict with everyone. And yet there it is.
The experience you have of your home is not the same experience that others have. We know this in the bad way; everything-looks-good-from-the-outside-but-everyone-is-miserable is a trope mined by dozens upon dozens of weeknight drama series and Oscar contenders (see: American Beauty).
But we should also know it in the good way. Maybe when our home is disappointing our expectations for peace and harmony it’s meeting a neighbor’s in a way that is saving their life.