I don’t know how you, and the entire Ukrainian community can take such pain, over and over. I think some must go crazy, others find a little mental nook to survive in, others fight back with every fiber. I hope someday you can all live in peace, and houses will be homes again.
Thank you, Frank! It is a massive trauma that is carried on from generation to generation, and until the abuser (Russians) is stopped completely, it won't start to heal.
Another very powerful and poignant piece this week. Thank you Darya. Words do matter, and these bring home the generational cruelty and barbarity of the russian mindset. On my first trip to Estonia, in 1990, I went to find my grandfather's childhood home only to find its ruins. In my wife's home area of Estonia, the fields are dotted by piles of ruins and clumps of fruit trees which were the homesteads of familes deported to Siberia. These ruins are silent memorials to those victims of the Sovietization and rusky mir. We must do what we can to remember, honor and avenge them by supporting Ukraine in its battle today.
Thank you for sharing, Mark! It is so painful to realize the scale of Russian barbarity and how much it affected the whole of Eastern Europe. I agree with you that the only way to avenge it and bring justice is to support Ukraine today.
The disappearance - the obliteration - of these often hand-built structures pains me, too. The techniques and architectures and painstaking details of bygone eras being lost forever is a crime in itself. My heart weeps, as well, at what can no longer be handed down to new generations. I don’t know where we all go from here; I’m just grateful you have created a space where we can mourn the value of what was lost and will need to be rebuilt.
I agree…thank you for your support! I recently ordered a beautiful book about Ukrainian rural architecture. Russians raze Ukrainian villages to the ground, and the majority of the houses won’t be rebuilt, so I think books like that have immense value.
Thank you so much for sharing about this. This is not something many of us in the West comprehend (even as I'm not from the West as such...) - the more traditional relationship between a home and its family. This, and observing culture and traditions, are things I'm learning about from my Ukrainian friends - and you. And in so doing, am seeing parallels in British history and culture - mostly lost now to "modernity". I love learning about these things, and coming to an understanding of their importance in the lives of my friends.
Thank you, Laurel! Indeed, we don't often think of the relationship between a home and its family, but it is so natural and meaningful that we need to acknowledge it. We usually spend most of our lives at home, and our houses are our fortresses and safe places. When a house gets destroyed, we feel like someone tore a part of our hearts, even if we didn't understand how much it meant to us before.
And that much I can understand. I remember when I was in university, our house was burgled. It wasn't even technically speaking our house, but a building on our property. What I remember is how vulnerable I felt afterwards. Violated. And that was just a building, and some items inside it stolen...
So, in that sense, I guess I do understand some of the relationship between a house and its family. But it's not something I've thought about as much, or felt as...deeply.
thank you so much for the beautiful photo of the Ukrainian house, and for your essay on what a house means to all of us, everywhere in the world. In ancient Greece, Hestia ruled the hearth, which was considered the "omphalos," or bellybutton of the home. Where the cord connecting all of us to life is, that mysterious link of life. Indigenous cultures who traveled carried embers to start the new fire. The house, becoming a home, contains our roots, the beginning of life for those born there, the nest where we die, hopefully, in peace in our old age. As a symbol, the house represents the Self, with a capital "S" meaning the soul. To lose one's home is to lose such a tremendous part of oneself. It is to feel unmoored, without roots, without the "genius" of our place in the world. It is so deeply meaningful. To live in exile is to be a refugee, to be longing to return to our emergence in this world. Thank you for sharing the emotions of what a house means in Ukraine, in Belarus, in the world. Many blessings to you, dearest Darya, I hold you in my heart always.
Dear Lydia, thank you so much for sharing! I didn't know what hearth symbolized in ancient Greece and that embers were carried to a new house as a symbol of our roots and connection to self in indigious cultures. It has such a deep meaning, and it is so beautiful. To lose a home and to be unable to return to the place of your birth is indeed to lose a part of yourself, your foundation. Thank you for your kind words and support!
There are still tribes in Africa who preserve the flame. Usually the chieftain's wife is the custodian. And the flame has been passed down over centuries. It's absolutely remarkable.
It’s easy for those of us not living it but who do care deeply about it to still get lost in the big geopolitical movements and the shifting military maps. Articles like this help us remember the very real human tragedies and costs in a way that evokes the eternal and the unifying: hearth and home and the legacy of generations.
I hope and pray for you, your family, and your nations’ sake that Russia, at long last, is about to finally exhaust her murderous imperialism and colonialism. A global tragedy it has lasted so long.
I don’t know how you, and the entire Ukrainian community can take such pain, over and over. I think some must go crazy, others find a little mental nook to survive in, others fight back with every fiber. I hope someday you can all live in peace, and houses will be homes again.
Thank you, Frank! It is a massive trauma that is carried on from generation to generation, and until the abuser (Russians) is stopped completely, it won't start to heal.
Another very powerful and poignant piece this week. Thank you Darya. Words do matter, and these bring home the generational cruelty and barbarity of the russian mindset. On my first trip to Estonia, in 1990, I went to find my grandfather's childhood home only to find its ruins. In my wife's home area of Estonia, the fields are dotted by piles of ruins and clumps of fruit trees which were the homesteads of familes deported to Siberia. These ruins are silent memorials to those victims of the Sovietization and rusky mir. We must do what we can to remember, honor and avenge them by supporting Ukraine in its battle today.
Thank you for sharing, Mark! It is so painful to realize the scale of Russian barbarity and how much it affected the whole of Eastern Europe. I agree with you that the only way to avenge it and bring justice is to support Ukraine today.
Thanks for the link! I just bought a copy of the book. 😊
So glad to hear it! It’s a very beautiful book
The disappearance - the obliteration - of these often hand-built structures pains me, too. The techniques and architectures and painstaking details of bygone eras being lost forever is a crime in itself. My heart weeps, as well, at what can no longer be handed down to new generations. I don’t know where we all go from here; I’m just grateful you have created a space where we can mourn the value of what was lost and will need to be rebuilt.
I agree…thank you for your support! I recently ordered a beautiful book about Ukrainian rural architecture. Russians raze Ukrainian villages to the ground, and the majority of the houses won’t be rebuilt, so I think books like that have immense value.
https://www.oldkhataproject.com/en/
Thank you so much for sharing about this. This is not something many of us in the West comprehend (even as I'm not from the West as such...) - the more traditional relationship between a home and its family. This, and observing culture and traditions, are things I'm learning about from my Ukrainian friends - and you. And in so doing, am seeing parallels in British history and culture - mostly lost now to "modernity". I love learning about these things, and coming to an understanding of their importance in the lives of my friends.
Thank you, Laurel! Indeed, we don't often think of the relationship between a home and its family, but it is so natural and meaningful that we need to acknowledge it. We usually spend most of our lives at home, and our houses are our fortresses and safe places. When a house gets destroyed, we feel like someone tore a part of our hearts, even if we didn't understand how much it meant to us before.
And that much I can understand. I remember when I was in university, our house was burgled. It wasn't even technically speaking our house, but a building on our property. What I remember is how vulnerable I felt afterwards. Violated. And that was just a building, and some items inside it stolen...
So, in that sense, I guess I do understand some of the relationship between a house and its family. But it's not something I've thought about as much, or felt as...deeply.
Hello Darya,
thank you so much for the beautiful photo of the Ukrainian house, and for your essay on what a house means to all of us, everywhere in the world. In ancient Greece, Hestia ruled the hearth, which was considered the "omphalos," or bellybutton of the home. Where the cord connecting all of us to life is, that mysterious link of life. Indigenous cultures who traveled carried embers to start the new fire. The house, becoming a home, contains our roots, the beginning of life for those born there, the nest where we die, hopefully, in peace in our old age. As a symbol, the house represents the Self, with a capital "S" meaning the soul. To lose one's home is to lose such a tremendous part of oneself. It is to feel unmoored, without roots, without the "genius" of our place in the world. It is so deeply meaningful. To live in exile is to be a refugee, to be longing to return to our emergence in this world. Thank you for sharing the emotions of what a house means in Ukraine, in Belarus, in the world. Many blessings to you, dearest Darya, I hold you in my heart always.
Dear Lydia, thank you so much for sharing! I didn't know what hearth symbolized in ancient Greece and that embers were carried to a new house as a symbol of our roots and connection to self in indigious cultures. It has such a deep meaning, and it is so beautiful. To lose a home and to be unable to return to the place of your birth is indeed to lose a part of yourself, your foundation. Thank you for your kind words and support!
There are still tribes in Africa who preserve the flame. Usually the chieftain's wife is the custodian. And the flame has been passed down over centuries. It's absolutely remarkable.
It is so impressive and magical! Thank you for sharing, Laurel!
It’s easy for those of us not living it but who do care deeply about it to still get lost in the big geopolitical movements and the shifting military maps. Articles like this help us remember the very real human tragedies and costs in a way that evokes the eternal and the unifying: hearth and home and the legacy of generations.
Thank you, Matt!
I hope and pray for you, your family, and your nations’ sake that Russia, at long last, is about to finally exhaust her murderous imperialism and colonialism. A global tragedy it has lasted so long.