“Every
man, every woman, carries in heart and mind the image of the ideal place, the
right place, the one true home, known or unknown, actual or visionary. A houseboat in Kashmir, a view down Atlantic Avenue in
Brooklyn, a gray gothic farmhouse two stories high at the end of a red dog road
in the Allegheny Mountains, a cabin on the shore of a blue lake in spruce and
fir country, a greasy alley near the Hoboken waterfront, or even, possibly, for
those of a less demanding sensibility, the world to be seen from a comfortable
apartment high in the tender, velvety smog of Manhattan, Chicago, Paris, Tokyo,
Rio, or Rome — there's no limit to the human capacity for
the homing sentiment.” ~ Edward Abbey, Environmentalist/Author
There are words from Brandi Carlile’s song, “The Story,” that I might sing, and perhaps you, too. “All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to” You don’t have to be single or alone to feel the depth of those words. Someone in a longtime marriage or relationship might feel them, too. The voyage through life takes each one of us through an assortment of experiences. Some of them ennoble us. Some crush us. Some lift us beyond ourselves and carry us into the lives of those who need us. And some carry us to those we need. Some experiences are burdens. Others ease and encourage us. Some leave us baffled and unsure. Some build confidence within us and are so affirming that we grow in substance, in courage, in tenderness, and sympathy. As we age, the lines in our faces can represent the hurts we have not yet resolved. Or t
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