Feeling lost? Good. You’re supposed to. The soul doesn’t wake up in comfort; it wakes up in crisis. You’re not broken—you’re just remembering where you came from.
Blessed are the homesick. There's a Welsh word I am kind obsessed with: hiraeth (hee-rythe), that means homesickness for a place that doesn't exist anymore or yet, or possibly ever. Nostalgia of a painful and totally imagined nature. This is one of my favorite words ever. I have suffered a permanent kind of homesickness for most of my life. I'm hoping I can dream up my true home and manifest it before this world burns to a cinder.
This stopped me cold.
“Remorse is about reality” — that line lodged somewhere between my chest and my throat.
You’re right: the ache isn’t failure, it’s memory. The soul remembering what it was made for.
That City of Separation you describe feels like the same wilderness so many of us are walking through — and maybe that’s where conscience is reborn.
Thank you for naming it with such tenderness and truth. ❤️🔥
Well, i got a good cry out of that one. Emphasis on the GOOD 😭❤️🩹
Blessed are the homesick. There's a Welsh word I am kind obsessed with: hiraeth (hee-rythe), that means homesickness for a place that doesn't exist anymore or yet, or possibly ever. Nostalgia of a painful and totally imagined nature. This is one of my favorite words ever. I have suffered a permanent kind of homesickness for most of my life. I'm hoping I can dream up my true home and manifest it before this world burns to a cinder.
Not broken, but remembering....I love that.