I live in a beautiful, distinctive and fiercely traditional part of the world. Actually the place I live in doesn't recognise the old traditions, but a town just down the road (Lewes) with which I have been associated since my teens, does. I love where I live, despite developers systematically destroying it and rendering the roads one solid traffic jam. I love the ancient woodland that I could see out of my childhood bedroom window, listening to the owls when I couldn't sleep and making up stories about the old farmhouse I could see, surrounded by trees.
I am still called to visit those woodland paths almost weekly. When I can make a longer visit, I walk up to the old farmhouse and look back towards my childhood home. The farmhouse is now surrounded by metal barriers and building works. I can hear the children in my old school playground from the woods, and remember sitting in stuffy classrooms whilst my spirit wandered the lush cool forest canopy.
I was born in London, where my Irish biological mum lived. My adoptive parents lived down south but both grew up in London, and we visited relatives in town throughout my childhood. I love London, and when I visit, I feel like I'm going back to somewhere I kind of belong.
Last summer I visited my mother's family home in Ireland, and I fully expected to feel a sense of belonging to that land, since my DNA relatives have lived in that part of the world for so long that the very family name is also the name of a close-by town, Toomevara (the seat of the family O'Meara) Despite the beauty of the area, I haven't yet connected to it. I need to walk its pathways and mountains, to feel that connection I think.
I feel like I chose Sussex to be my home. Like so many Irish people, my mother travelled overseas and now those pure genes from the Emerald Isle are over here in my children and grandchildren.
I am still called to visit those woodland paths almost weekly. When I can make a longer visit, I walk up to the old farmhouse and look back towards my childhood home. The farmhouse is now surrounded by metal barriers and building works. I can hear the children in my old school playground from the woods, and remember sitting in stuffy classrooms whilst my spirit wandered the lush cool forest canopy.
I was born in London, where my Irish biological mum lived. My adoptive parents lived down south but both grew up in London, and we visited relatives in town throughout my childhood. I love London, and when I visit, I feel like I'm going back to somewhere I kind of belong.
Last summer I visited my mother's family home in Ireland, and I fully expected to feel a sense of belonging to that land, since my DNA relatives have lived in that part of the world for so long that the very family name is also the name of a close-by town, Toomevara (the seat of the family O'Meara) Despite the beauty of the area, I haven't yet connected to it. I need to walk its pathways and mountains, to feel that connection I think.
I feel like I chose Sussex to be my home. Like so many Irish people, my mother travelled overseas and now those pure genes from the Emerald Isle are over here in my children and grandchildren.
