As I got into my car after work Thursday, I felt a vague sense of unease. Something felt wrong. But what was it?
There was something wrong. Something was missing.
I went through a mental checklist, but there was nothing obvious. I wasn’t especially hungry or thirsty. There was no pressing need that I was overlooking. But I felt a wave of crushing emotion and then a thought hit me.
“I want to go Home.”
As the waves of emotions rushed over me, I knew what was going on. I wasn’t feeling a sudden need to go to the house where I live. I was filled with the crushing need for something which we all know in a deep part of our unconscious collective psyche.
Home isn’t just the place where we live. Home is a state of being in which we’re where we belong, among people who love us, where we fit and are accepted. To be Home is to experience the magic of knowing you are exactly where you need to be.

Trump’s rabid defenders selling their souls for a narcissistic liar
Out-of-touch Keynesians still think ‘digging ditches’ is a good idea
Monkeys celebrating new donation button, hoping for more bananas
I’ve always done my best work when I’m allowed to fix things
Are government employee unions making the rest of us unsafe?
Pro-free market candidates don’t promise price targets on gasoline
When I feel too much ambition, my ego has gotten too inflated
‘What’s the worth of one warm smile? Go and ask the dead man’
In denial? Isn’t it time to accept that elections won’t change anything?