A Sense Of Place

You’ll find my attempt at a post with the aforementioned title, as suggested by Britt via our post title trade! Read more about the initiative, or contact me if you’d also like to trade!

I’m writing this from Albania, but by the time you read it, I might be somewhere else.

So. Place. What a strange concept when your existence oscillates between countries, continents, and time zones.

Australia should feel like home, sure. It’s familiar, comforting, and I’m proud of the beautiful continent and its people...but somehow it just isn’t it. Nowhere is, really.

The internet, though? That’s where I live. I know how that sounds. Physically impossible? Ridiculous? Yes, and yes. But give me a chance.

Geography no longer defines my sense of place. It’s found in the daily rhythm of checking my RSS feeds, a thoughtful email, the quiet satisfaction of updating my websites. These small rituals anchor me more than any physical address has.

This site you’re reading? It’s my home. Every page, every post, every word is my attempt at place-making. The guestbook entries from strangers who’ve become friends, the webring connections that lead to delightful discoveries, the slow building of something that’s mine.

Physical places change you, yes. I’ve stood under unfamiliar stars in Thailand, felt the weight of history in Romanian castles, tasted salt air on Spanish coasts. But those moments pass. They’re beautiful, transformative, even, but ephemeral.

What endures is this: the community I’ve built through emails, and the sense that somewhere in the vast digital expanse, people are reading these words and feeling less alone.

That’s what a sense of place means for me. Not the coordinates on a map, but the networks of care and attention we create. The small kindnesses exchanged across continents. The way a stranger’s blog post can make you feel understood.

I used to think I was untethered. Now I realize I just live in a different dimension.

And what a strange, wonderful place it is.

•--♡--•