Right here, right hiraeth
Today I learned a new word: hiraeth.
There’s no English word, or Swedish for that matter, that captures it. It means a melancholic longing for a home or time that may no longer exist, a mix of homesickness and sadness for the past.
The Swedish podcast where I heard it gave this example:
A man walks past a schoolyard and hears the children laughing. Suddenly he feels a sharp longing for the simplicity of childhood. Not for a specific place or memory, but for a state of innocence that maybe never existed.
I think most of us know that feeling.
Life seemed easier back then. No bills, no jobs, no repairs waiting at home. Fewer obligations.
But memories can fool us.
For those of us with a “normal” childhood, some things were easier. But if we look back honestly, life wasn’t perfect. There was uncertainty, pain, moments of feeling lost or out of place.
The “good old days” are often more fiction than fact. A story we tell ourselves.
And either way, the past is gone. We’ve learned from it, we carry the memories.
But this — right here and now — is our life. And it’s pretty good when we stop comparing it to what was.