Where is that place that I can sit in the background but still be part of the celebration, part of the group, part of a family, or, at the very least, with others of like mind?
I want to be part of the conversation but am always checking myself before speaking … ensuring I don’t say something stupid, off-putting.
Place isn’t necessarily a real thing. It’s a feeling, a sense of belonging. I want to belong but my need to be by myself overrides that sometimes, and I shy away. I trade the need for fellowship with a stronger sense which keeps me in my “retirement” mode at home … reading and writing.
Place is where your kids say, “We’ll call you,” and they do. They reach out to schedule time in their lives … with their kids — your grandkids — and their pets. Their pets never forget you, no matter how long it’s been since you were there.
In recent months our places have changed, shrunk to the walls of our homes, sometimes for the better and sometimes with a level of discomfort never before experienced. Regardless of the comfort level, the importance of our sense of place never dissipates. It is as important today as ever — perhaps more so.
Where is that place? It’s an old person’s place,
For me? Connection is at that place.
Where is your place?
Where do you belong?