To Know oneself. To be known, cherished, and acknowledged by the people of one’s own blood, and birth.

And then, in our time, this hunger that people cannot name…for their own families, clans, and larger tribes. And the need felt, and rarely met, to have the memory holding ones among them.

Ah, For modern people, to be at liberty to acknowledge the fullness of character of the people in their OWN families, both the reviled and the beloved born among them. How deep this story.

Mongolia, the little girl-child of such equipoise. She is my kin.

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