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.

My reaction to man’s home taught me more about me than about him
Sometimes we should ignore idiots who yell about non-existent racism
When Demopublicans and Republicrats clash, you lose
Free tires for a stranger? We forget all the people doing good
I can’t help wanting to replay life with emotionally healthy parents
Tenn. woman threatened for allowing daughter to ride bike to school
Words I wrote as idealistic teen suggest I’m still the same inside
Being in love shows us who we can choose to be at our very best