A Sense of Place

I was the proverbial Asian woman who grew up thinking my life is tied to a “sense of place” so-called. I was of this nation, this river-town, this home – where I was born and raised, and where my family has lived for generations.

I have not been anywhere so far from home. If at all -- my explorations were inward, toward the core of what supports me physically and spiritually. I came from such a world where a place is not a place until people have " been born in it, have grown up in it, lived in it, known it, died in it."

I myself thought I was "well-placed" in the comfort of home and loved ones, friends and places all- too -familiar, a nice enough job, some advocacies -- that for me to be moving out and up in the world at that point would not only be unthought of but to my mind -- shallow, listless, hasty – indicative of a lack of stamping ground. But sometimes, life hands you cake you cannot eat. I suspect I was born with this sorrow, this kind of sadness that yearns to roam…

At this point my musing is…..

“The land was ours before we were the land’s,” from my favorite Robert Frost poem. I have always known deep within me that there are worlds other than mine. There are many duties to be performed, many hats to be worn, many emotions left to be felt.

Alas, the world’s too big, too interesting. And only in the act of submission to life and its motion is the "sense of place" truly realized. Then, a sustainable and healing relationship between people and earth.... and earth and sky..... is thereby established.