The beach often feels like a meeting place of opposites: land and sea, movement and stillness, old memories and new possibilities. Standing there while the wind carries grains of sand into my shoes and socks, I hear the whispering waves. I wonder—what makes a place feel like home? Or, perhaps, what helps us imagine the places we want to belong to in the future (Design Your Future, say 2025)?
The word homeland immediately sparked thoughts beyond my immediate surroundings. It brought me to South Africa and the history of the Bantustans. These were the so-called homelands assigned during apartheid to specific ethnic groups. They were meant to create the illusion of self-governance but were, in reality, tools of segregation and displacement. This association with injustice lingers whenever I think of the word homeland.
But what does homeland mean to me personally? During a walk on the beach, I asked myself: what makes you feel at home? Is it the place, the people around you, or perhaps the familiar rituals and habits? On the beach, I saw all sorts of people:
Walkers bundled in thick coats
Children with tiny hands grabbing handfuls of sand and throwing them into the sea
Even older women stylishly dressed
Braving the wind
It felt quintessentially Dutch—facing the cold for a breath of fresh air. But did these scenes make me feel at home? Not exactly.
What struck me was that I’d likely feel even less at home without people. An empty beach would feel lonely without passersby, dogs, or children. Perhaps that sense of home doesn’t come from something you consciously notice but from signals that unconsciously make you feel like you belong, that you’re in the right place.
Here’s the paradox: the things that make you feel at home often only become apparent when they’re gone. Like moving or saying goodbye, I immediately notice the negatives, while I have to search with a flashlight for the positives. Our brains seem to focus more on what’s missing as if that helps prepare us for the future.
I want to practice this positive mindset: not thinking about what I’ll miss but also what I want to create. Maybe I can even visualize how I want to feel—my fun challenge for 2025!
Thank you for this lovely and thought-provoking post. I would enjoy exploring this topic of home and belonging with you during 2025. As we approach retirement, my husband and I are discussing where we want to be and what we want to do. Home and purpose seem to go hand in hand; one without the other leaves one feeling that something is missing. I think we can create "home" yet still have a longing for our homeland. I think they have a word for that in Wales: hiraeth.
Hi Erica. Thanks for the challenge!...I used to have troubles feeling 'at home', but I can say that this year, 2024, I've been building something like home through the discovery and practice of slow stitching. Home for me has to feel 'safe' , safe' in a way that let yourself be and create without fear. I'll borrow from you the idea of creating for next year this safe homly atmosphere to continue exploring.
Love your work.
Marian (Argentina)
What a beautiful painting, and what text! Straight into the heart, without being explicit. Maybe I am biased! BRAVO!