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.

How would we see the gang war in Texas if the faces had been black?
Life has a brutal habit of forcing us to confront our own hypocrisy
Pearl Harbor: Simple sneak attack or culmination of FDR’s plan for war?
On this website’s 10th birthday, I’m planning for the next decade
There are more of us than ever, so why do many of us feel so alone?
I still have trouble accepting that my idealized world doesn’t exist