“I am speaking of the physical home in which we live, but my thoughts wander to the other meaning of the word, namely one’s
home in general. What does home mean to us? Where is our home? Where is it that we can lay down our head, close our eyes, relax,
and feel secure? I only know one single place where I can indulge in this experience.
That is my inner home, the home that dwells within me and for me; it is the home I have been building, one brick at a time, since
I set out on the path of healing, since I started to address my relationship with myself.
The home that seemingly existed when I first started out was more apparent than real. It was not a place of love, but of fear. Rather
than a warm refuge, it was a place of alienation. Far from radiating acceptance and support, it was a judgmental, arbitrary place. The
need for self-expression found no support there, but met with an obstructive, castrating response. It was not a place encouraging
independent, personal development; it merely emphasised the need to get along with and please other people.”
Realizing the jottings he had made over a twelve-month period “for the drawer,” might touch, speak to, and encourage others, the
writer resolved to make this very personal material available to the public.
The result is a courageous, soul-baring book that tugs on the heartstrings. In it, the author invites us to participate intimately in
what befell him as a result of his electing to follow his inner truth.
Zvika Uri, born and raised in Israel, has two sons and three granddaughters, and is now in a new relationship. A clinical
psychologist and organizational consultant by profession, his work with people and organizations consists of searching for a path to growth and actualization.
