“And home is the place of belonging. Home can also be the opposite of that, highlighting the sense of not belonging, the sense of otherness. Home then, embodies a strange paradox in that it can be understood as both happy assimilation into place and tribe as well as being one’s concept of defiance, individuality and difference. From this interpretation we can see how identity is closely connected to home. Are we a product of, or a reaction to where we are from? And what happens if you are dispossessed of a birthright as indelible as belonging? How do you keep your identity if you have no place to which you can return?”
How beautiful. For those of you traveling, how do you define home? From whence does our identity come?
Where does our desire to tell stories come from? What exactly is it that we are trying to articulate and what fuels the conviction that there is an audience for the tales we tell? It’s surely not just a by-product of ego, a desire to impose ourselves on the world, an inner compulsion towards self-assertion. That would make the starting point rather thin and facile. I prefer to think that it goes deeper, recalling our more primitive beginnings.
There was a time when the inner and outer lives of a community were deeply mysterious and magical and the role of interpretation and explanation fell not to chieftains or sovereigns but to a figure that somehow managed to dwell both within and without the tribe. Both ‘of’ and ‘other’. This figure was the storyteller. The poet. The bard. To this person fell the shamanistic duty of making sense of the universe…
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