Entering a labyrinth of stone this past fall on Block Island, required posing a question. Tradition stated that it would be resolved- at least this is what I recall- if one repeated it while walking the  entire circular path.

My question came to me immediately: Where is home?

The labyrinth provided me with no definitive answer.

I have just left what I called home definitively to travel. Yet I do not feel homeless.

It is as if my home is everywhere.