"All at once, for the first time in the last few days, Yurii Andreivich understood quite clearly where he was, what was happening to him, and what awaited him in an hour or so.
     Three years of changes, moves, uncertainies, upheavalsl; the war, the revolution; scenes of destruction, scenes of death, shelling, blown-up bridges, fires, ruins- all this turned suddenly into a huge, empty, meaningless space. The first real event since the long interruption was this trip in the fast-moving train, the fact that he was approaching his home, which was intact, which still existed, and in which every stone was dear to him. This was real life, meaningful experience, the actual goal of all quests, this was what art aimed at- homecoming, return to one's family, to oneself, to true existence.""

I believe this is something Pasternak himself thought, after the passionate tempest of the revolution had passed, after the bleary-eyed mongrel, War, had desecrated his country and his people. The coming-home of afterwards, to a home intact- the joy of relief!