I just read this written by Sindiwe Magona:
Something deeper, primeval even, pulled and tugged at my heartstrings. ‘Inkaba yakho iyakulilela! Your umbilical cord cries out for you!’ amaXhosa say to explain the urge that is not to be denied – the homing instinct. The umbilical cord, buried deep in the ground after the birth of a child, marks ‘home’. And the belief is that this place has a pull on one.
I wonder if all of us have this pull?
Our new temporary hometown
As we’re settling into our apartment in San Cristobal de Las Casas, our home for the next 3 months, I’ve been thinking about what is home for me. Is it a physical place where you store your stuff, or a place where you feel at home, or the place where you are at the moment with your loved ones?
I’m reading The Lost Girls, the book of 3 friends traveling over 4 continents in one year. Here is what Holly writes:
If home is truly where the heart is, as the old saying goes, what did that mean for me? Is home a physical place, a familiar spot where you can stay in your PJs until noon and eat peanut butter straight from the jar? Or is it more of a feeling, like knowing where to find safety in an unpredictable world?
Where is your home?
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