Hiraeth: (n) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.
I learned this word after Camp burned down three years ago, and it really doesn’t have a better use than to describe my feelings about that place. I realize this is a story some of you *might* not know, but I’m sure most of you do, and it would take to long to tell. This is just a short memorial post for it with a song.
Losing Camp the day before I left for China three years ago was pretty rough, it made me even more introverted than usual my first time in a new country, and thinking about all that was lost brings tears to the eyes on the odd day still. I can’t overstate how much impact that magical place had on my development through childhood and into adulthood. It taught me to work, to play, to laugh, to love, to lose, and to learn. Ask me anything about it and I’ll talk for hours. Mostly about the kitch. That sweltering crucible of bumping music, pungent balsamic reduction, scalding dishwater, and endless joy. So today, as I’ve just arrived in the same city I left for three years ago, here’s a song for Camp. Were I at there today, we’d sure as hell be slapping it at 11.
I hope this post finds you well, and brings you a happy memory of a place or a time you wish you could return to, if even for a day. And a reminder as well to not only continue building yourself. Don’t merely remember the lessons and skills you’ve learned, remember where you’ve learned them.