During the long journey back from the Golden State, I got to thinking about home. What it really is. And sure, one definition is where I have all my stuff. Another is where I grew up. But I think a more meaningful way to look at it is the places that have left the deepest marks in you. Home is the origin of your parts and where your loved ones are.
My first sense of self, my imagination, the core, I found in Stockholm, in the Stockholm archipelago and the patchy southern Finnish farmland landscape. I started learning about confidence and my abilities in coastal Tanzania. In the mountains of Bolivia, I started exploring my independence, while my identity as a researcher grew from the arid landscapes of Namibia and Burkina Faso. I feel a connection to these places in a way that goes beyond aesthetic appreciation.
But there are also the people. I feel a strong connection to places – but that really isn’t worth anything without love. That’s where home truly is. For me, that means mostly Stockholm, but also Monrovia, Uppsala, Glasgow, Robertson, some of which are places I haven’t even been in.
I think it’s good to remember that, when I’m feeling lost. Home is something I create, with the experiences that I make and the relationships that I nurture. Those are the places where I belong.
And I will always find calm in the Södermanland dawn.
Katja Malmborg 