Mylo is surveying his surroundings. When he likes what he sees, he dances; when he does not like what he sees, he emits a low grumble/growl. He knows who he is and where he ought to be. Mylo is in the world and likes it. So it goes for us occupants of our Earth Home. The sooner we settle in, the better we will like it. A sense of place is rooted in our hearts. I live in Southern Illinois and find it captivating. A land of lakes and rolling hills. The Woods is just down the road. A pond in my backyard. A Great Blue Heron that fishes the pond, a Beaver, and a Bull Frog Quartet.

We seek satisfaction in places that have none. Doing what makes you happy is the key. When I retired, many folks said I would have time to fish. I do not enjoy fishing. Others commented that I would surely get another job to have something to do with my time. I am as busy as I want to be. I loved the honesty of Sam Goldman, who was retiring as Chancellor of Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale, when he told me that he did not like to travel. Many say that travel is their goal when they retire. We travel and have done so a lot for the first few years of retirement. Travel is fun if you are into it. It takes work while you are having fun. It is expensive. Leave your preconceived notions of where you are going at home; you are in for a surprise. The same problems you left home with are waiting for you when you arrive. Wherever we traveled in Europe, people wanted to visit America. The stars in their eyes revealed they perceived the United States as a land flowing with milk and honey. A friend said regarding Israel that it was very hot…it is a desert. I had a long conversation with a disabled man in Edinburgh who said his life’s goal was to visit the United States. His Visa had not been approved, so he would try again. A fellow in the United Kingdom said that he was afraid to visit the States because there are so many tornadoes.

You can be happy as a pocket on a shirt if you enjoy being a pocket. Of late, there are many in our country who have lost their sense of place. They want us to have a national identity that squares with what they were taught by their elders as they grew up. If those around them wear cowboy hats and blue jeans, that is the attire they want to see. When they refer to true Americans, they mistakenly refer to people like them. It is a bit like the paintings and depictions of Jesus as a white man with soft features.

Home is where you make it. You carry it with you. You can not find it in a travel book. It is not in a national identity that agrees with your bias. It is acceptance. Home is hope. Home has an ethereal quality. It is difficult to hold in your hands; it is meant for your heart.