I’ve always felt this nostalgia as an aching, a loneliness, and as a desire to flee to a place that doesn’t exist.

It is a place of my dreams, a community of love and light and joy and peace, living off the land, self-sufficient, and all sacred paths converge there and there are even agnostics and atheists.

But everyone there adores the soil, protects the water, and lives in harmony with all non-human forms of life.

Maybe I lived in such a place in a past life. The absence of this place in this life causes me a deep existential anguish that cannot heal.