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.

Nelson Mandela overcame anger at oppression to become a hero
In praise of the weirdos who most people don’t really seem to like
A muse is a crutch for an artist, but some need a crutch to walk
Peshawar murders show need to support those who share our values
Left’s refusal to criticize Obama because he’s black is simply racist
The more I see of death, the more determined I am to live life fully
Will Honduras establish the first modern free city? It’s possible