Being "Home" Wherever You Are
Originally published in Women's LifeStyle, October 2003

“There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home,” Dorothy chanted as she clicked the heels of her ruby slippers together. As we watch the closing scenes of MGM’s classic film, we can’t help but feel her burning desire to leave the strange and unsettling Land of Oz behind to get back to what feels comfortable and safe - Auntie Em, Uncle Henry, those endearing farm hands and a predictable life on the plains of Kansas. Haven’t we all felt what Dorothy was feeling? No matter how far we travel and what exciting adventures await us, when all is said and done, it’s good to be back home.

I often wonder whether home is a place, meaning a specific location where we feel comfortable and safe. It seems so. For example, even though my sister has made her home in California for 13 years, when she reveals to me of an upcoming visit to Michigan, she inevitably says, “I’m coming home for a visit.” I love to “go home” to my mother’s house (even though it is one that I never actually lived in) because of all the great family memories I get to relive when I am there. Not to mention being pampered a bit...

During the past year, I moved from western Michigan where I’d lived all my life to Traverse City. I spent a great deal of time looking for and creating the perfect home for myself and my family. It was quite an adjustment finding my way around a strange community, discovering where to shop and making friends with strangers. Much of the time I’ve felt uncomfortable, feeling not quite “at home” with myself or my surroundings, despite the fact that it was a wonderful move, the best thing that could have happened to me.

Yet, when I would go “back home” (‘downstate’ as we northerners say), I didn’t feel contented there either. In fact, after a day's visit, I’d find myself chomping at the bit, eager to get back to my own bed and that beautiful blue, green bay that nourishes my spirit. It was so strange, this not feeling “home” in either place. Sort of like living in the twilight zone.

Then one day a dear friend, hearing my dilemma, recommended a book to me. It was called When Things Fall Apart. Written by a Buddhist nun named Pema Chodron, its words buoyed me and gave me hope. The author wisely reminds us that being home is a state of mind—that if we are completely focused on what is going on in the present moment, we can be at peace, “at home,” wherever we are. Most of us spend our time thinking about what we need to be happy instead of noticing that we can be happy right now. Happiness is not something to be put off until our world shows up the way we think it should. Happiness is something to be experienced in the here and now.

I began to realize that I was putting off my own happiness, waiting for everything to feel just right so I could feel “at home” again. By shifting my thinking and noticing where I was placing my attention, I could begin to access moments of true happiness with my life exactly as it was. And THAT felt great. That felt like home.

Maybe we should take the lead on this issue from turtles. Have you ever noticed that turtles are always “at home”? They take their shells, their homes, with them everywhere they roam. Even if the terrain is unfamiliar, all that they really need is carried with them. Home is portable, ever present. Knowing this, we sense that “home” certainly seems to be a state of being rather than an actual place.

That perspective is available to us as human beings as well. If we carried our sense of home with us—our belief in ourselves, our inner source of happiness and peace, our love and zest for life—if we carried it with us like a shell, we would always be home. It is when our thoughts are sourced in “I’ll be happy when I get there,” or “I just know I’d be happier somewhere else,” that we find ourselves in trouble, or in angst as I was, feeling like home was nowhere to be found. When we can surrender to the fact that home is within us at all times, then inner peace can prevail.

As I pen this column, I’m getting ready to “leave home” and fly to Hawaii, someplace that feels exciting, but a faraway place. I am not particularly fond of airports and the frenetic energy they exude. I also like my surroundings familiar and comfortable. As a result, I’ve often experienced anxiety when I travel with an “I can’t wait to get home” attitude prevailing. I’ve realized over the years that it is necessary to shift my state of mind, to let go of “future thinking” and be in the moment if I am going to travel well. I breathe deeply, pay attention to the interesting people around me, or make the most of my time by enjoying a good book. I anchor myself in the moment and, surprisingly, my frustration and anxiety disappear. I have brought myself “home.”

This time around I think I’m going to try to travel as a turtle, take my shell with me and create a sense of home wherever I go. That sounds really good to me and it could make the honeymoon a lot more fun (smile).