Longing for home is a theme in both of my books - and in my life. In
The Christmas Village, 12-year-old Jamie finds himself far from home at Christmas time, and longs for nothing more than to return home in time to be with his family for the holiday. In
Return to Canterbury, it's less about Jamie's desire to
return home, and more about his desire for that kind of deep sense of belonging that makes us feel like we are
at home.
It's no surprise that these are strong themes in my books because I've always been a homebody. I remember running home from my friend Nancy Preble's house after a sleepover, my little legs flying down the hill and the words, "I can't wait to get home," pounding in my head. Mind you, Nancy's house was no more than 500 steps away from mine.
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This is the house I grew up in - the one I ran home to. But it was red then. |
And there was the time that my beloved Uncle Fred and Auntie Kay brought me home with them to New York City. They were so kind, and they loved me so much and wanted to show me a good time in the city, but I was so homesick they had to bring me back early. To this day, I still wish I could hug them and tell them I'm sorry!!
So it's no wonder our 10-month adventure traveling in the motor home challenged me!
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Our beloved Dreamcatcher home |
It's not that I don't like to travel and see the world - I do! But I very much need to know that I have a place called home to return to. We are who we are.
There are certain places that will always be "home" to me. I feel my deepest sense of belonging in those places, and I imagine I always will.
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Ocean Point, East Boothbay, Maine.
These rocks are my favorite place on this planet. Whenever I step foot on them, I feel HOME. |
But I
have evolved some over the past few years, in large part because of that big leap with the RV. I really LIKE my comfort zone and prefer not to be thrown out of it. But I have to admit that good usually does come of it. It's not always clear right away. In fact, it takes a while. But getting thrown WAY out of my comfort zone taught me that it is
possible to feel at home wherever I am. I discovered that feeling "at home" has less to do with being in a particular place, and much more to do with doing what I love (writing, practicing and teaching yoga) and spending time with people whom I love and who love me. Family, and friends who feel like family.
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When we landed here in Florida a year ago, I found that something in me had shifted. I was tired of wasting my life's energy longing to be somewhere else and I very much wanted to learn how to be content where I am. And when I made that shift, MAGIC happened. I instantly found a yoga studio that welcomed me back to teaching. We discovered, to our great delight, that dear old friends from New England whom we had missed terribly just happen to have a home a half hour from us. They come and go between here and up north, but we've already spent lots of time laughing and playing with them again. I was not able to "go home" this year, meaning I didn't make any trips to New England. But family and friends have visited us here.
And, feeling grounded again, I wrote and published my second book.
Much of our suffering in life relates to attachment - to people, places and things. We cling too tight and it's wrenching to let go. It's very human to grow attached; we all do it. The past few years have taught me - finally - that the more I loosen my grip, the less attached I am; the more that what I
really want in life manages to find its way to me. Weird. But true. MAGIC.