Home
Everyday happiness means getting up in the morning, and you can't wait to finish your breakfast. You can't wait to do your exercises. You can't wait to put on your clothes. You can't wait to get out - and you can't wait to come home, because the soup is hot. -George BurnsYesterday I decided to visit a yoga studio discovered while driving around running errands. Any time there is a sign that says “Yoga” I make a quick turn around or pause to remember the location. This particular studio was called Sports Yoga M2 (http://www.yogam2.com/). It was a small second floor studio with painted light walls, deep mahogany colored floors, and a pleasant seating area outside the practice room. The lights were dimmed, soft piano music was playing and the temperature felt warm but not stifling. The practice was just over an hour and started in a seated position with a logical pattern of 15 minute increments of seated, standing, kneeling then lying down for final pose. It was a practice that left you feeling relaxed yet not overly taxed. This was perfect since I had just flown back into town from a weekend with my family and needed a moment to reflect.
Where are you from? That must be one of the top five questions asked upon meeting someone for the first time. It is right up there with “What do you do?” or “What is your name?” or “You look so familiar…” then boom- “Where are you from?” Why? Home resonates within people. It invokes feelings of warmth, identity, belonging, acceptance, and sometimes it is a place where people wish to forget. There are exceptions to every observation, but let’s choose to lean to the positive side and let good beget good. Let us focus and work on good intentions. In the end that is all we have.
I took a mini trip this past weekend. It was a lovely jaunt north to Cape May, New Jersey. Both of my sisters and two nephews also arrived from their parts of the country. My mom and dad were there as well. Then a close friend from high school stopped by for a visit. Then more friends arrived. We laughed and fought and reminisced in quite a short amount of time. During the days we walked along the tree-lined Victorian streets and mused how the town has changed since we were children some thirty years ago. This trip was to be one of the last I would take back to the old town. My parents had sold the family business two years ago, and there was nothing left to visit. But I went this time. Any time I can see the family who raised, loved, and protected me from the time I came into this world to today, well, is there a better reason? It is this nucleus that I wish to foster in my own children. It is where your heart claims as home. Sometimes it takes a visit back to your childhood to shake the cobwebs and gently nudge the memory. Perhaps it is the smell of fresh baked cookies, cut grass, or freshly laundered sheets. For me it is a combination of the sight of a small quaint town coupled with the familiar banter between family and friends. Life is a soothing ebb and flow of lessons, laughter, challenges and achievements.
How do you identify where you are from? And does the answer change as you age? I am originally from New Jersey, born in Pennsylvania. The answer I offer when asked is Cape May. By sheer measure it has been the longest amount of time I’ve spent in one place. But that is not the gauge by which I judge my origin. No, my highly evolved and scientific mind deduces and reasons as such: it feels right. Not your typical analytical accounting answer, but the best I can provide. My mind knows where I learned how to ride my bike, where we had our first pet, where my first day of school started, where I began to bloom as a person. My heart remembers the love I received and heartaches I felt for the first time. That is home. For those of us that have to wander far to find that place, keep seeking. For those of us who carry that place with us, feel free to share your peace. Indeed the days are fine, but the soup at home is divine.
