Musings

Making sense of the past or the unintended good

Making sense of the past or the unintended good

I came from a country that no longer exists.
I left the rubbles of the once almighty USSR, but it never left me. It, the invisible force of my upbringing, permeated every corner of my being in subtle whispers and reflective bouts. I spent decades purging seared memories of that life.

What is home to you?

What is home to you?

Is it a physical place where your possessions are? A feeling of comfort and safety? A sense of belonging? Or an emotion of relief, like one entering your home after a time away, that first sigh of arrival, as you plunged on your sofa. As a serial expat from the no...