Today is the birthday of Beatrix Potter, who reminds us that imagination can be the glue that binds us to home.
My own story of belonging is both different from and similar to Brené’ Brown’s. Since I didn’t fit in, I used my oddness to my advantage. That worked as a kid but hurt me as an adult.
Grieving for our Childhood, Not our Country The place I lived as a child . . . has completely vanished. . . there’s no evidence that any of what I remember actually happened, or that the people I knew ever existed. . . The… Continue Reading “Nostalgia”
Too often we create home based on what we’ve known and what’s familiar. But that’s not always what’s best. True comfort often requires us to move beyond the past.
The landscape of our childhood is imprinted on our psyches and stored in our bodies. The places where we played will always be home.