Recently, I took a trip “home” to Vermont, where most of my family still lives. I put this trip off for quite a while mostly because of the construction and red tape surrounding the house, but also because I was afraid.
I was afraid to walk into my parent’s home, and look my mother in the eye, and fall apart. I was afraid I would break in two and not recover, not be put back together again. I was afraid that I would be unable to get back on a plane and return to Florida.
What actually happened, is that I exhaled. A full, deep, long, healing exhale. I pressed pause on every part of life for that week. I didn’t work in my business, I didn’t check in at work, I didn’t exercise, I didn’t engage in my usual early morning studies or meditation. I just focused on BEING.
I enjoyed the thick fluffy magical snow that fell one night. I took in gulps of fresh, cold air as often as I could, and I noticed, that I was still not falling to pieces.
I spent one week hanging out with my Mom. We giggled, we cooked, we shopped, we ran errands and we sat in the living room and worked on our respective knitting projects while watching tv.
When it was time to leave, it wasn’t as emotional as I had expected, and I didn’t feel like i was being dragged away against my will. I was ready to go “home”.
How can home be more than one place? It’s simple. Home is where your heart is. It’s where YOU are. It’s what YOU are. For what is in this moment, is all there is.
What I took away from the trip is that while Vermont is what I will always refer to as “home” because it’s where my ancestors lived and farmed, and it’s where I was raised, it’s where I lived and loved and raised my own children, Florida is also my home because it’s where my daily life takes place right now, in this space and time.
Taking that time at home in Vermont with my family, was balm on my hurricane wounds. It was soothing to my inner child that has felt picked on, abandoned, and left out of the cool kids gang while trying to recover from a natural disaster that has tested every facet of my being.