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.

Donald Trump’s jingoistic tribalism marks him as a dangerous buffoon
Painful longing is too powerful to express heart’s anguish in words
Self-disclosure of flaws is how I stop myself from deceiving you
This is my new wife, Claire — but she doesn’t actually exist
Dear FBI, NSA and all three-letter agencies: ‘We don’t trust you guys’
Obama administration wants to choose skin color of your neighbors
How do we know when to quit? Persistence may be futile choice
Love & Hope — Episode 7:
With millions jobless, U.S. companies struggle to find skilled workers