bringing all of our senses to this moment?
What does it mean to be home, to feel at home, to have a home? I have thought a lot about the concept of home in recent months as I have sought, with the intensity of a scouting leader undertaking a harrowing expedition into unknown lands, to find a home of my own, of our own, in the Bay Area. Or perhaps more specifically, to find a house, a piece of land and a comfortable dwelling, that I and my husband could “forever” settle in and call our own.
I realize, whenever I look up to the mountains, to the trees and the sunshine, when I attend to the silent and not-so-silent natural world outside the boundaries of my self-contained body, new perspectives come to my mind. The swirl and sideways bends of the life that I inhabit almost seem to subside like calm winds after a storm. I am reminded that there is something beyond that which I perceive, a greater spiritual force at play in the world. And I am at the mercy of it.
I’ve come to realize that movement is an essential element to my happiness. While I have strong emotions that tie me to a sense of place and home, not a day goes by where I am not somehow moving — throwing myself out into the world to run, bike, walk, hike, and lately (thanks to the proliferation of electric scooters all over town) scooting! I recently got myself my own set of automotive wheels that, I confess, has brought me great joy as it now allows me to hit the road to just about anywhere there is a road.
I was attending a 4-day Science of Happiness event in Scott’s Valley, California this past weekend when Jack Kornfield, a renowned meditation teacher and Buddhism scholar, started us off us with a powerful meditation on themes of happiness and suffering and human connection. It was the first morning of our gathering, and amid the many nuggets of wisdom Jack shared with these themes, there was this poem by Mark Nepo that took hold of me.