A conflictual feeling has occurred:

I believe little in a human's (or animal's) territorial belongingness – in the idea of roots.

Evolution equips us with aptitudes to our environment and we feast in memoria, creating an idea of legacy, which binds our emotional system to a conviction of belongingness.

Kälsved is a small piece of land inside the southern forests of Sweden, where my grandmother's grandfather built a house. My father partially grew up here with his uncle and aunt. There was a community here, probably stronger than today, a heritage of destiny. This heritage is to be sold.

Standing inside that physical reality I felt the impossibility of not belonging to this anymore. But why?

I know little of the people who lived here before me. I place their pictures and seek to know more. I wonder if knowing more will tell me more about myself, or help me to break these fictional ties to a piece of land I adore – an experienced sadness that seeks healing through a transcending logic of roots.

I am guessing this is what could be called a trans-generational defence mechanism, we can see and have seen it throughout time and place all around the world.