I can’t remember ever feeling this much warmth and fuzziness in my life. I’m generally a prickly person – just ask anyone who has ever lived with me. It’s coming as a shock. I’m the proverbial Grinch whose heart was too small and has suddenly grown ten sizes. I’m so unused to this feeling I’m nearly lost in my new identity. Why the change?
Let me give you a peak at the vision I wrote for myself 4 years ago:
In 10 years, I am 40 years old. I am a wife, teacher and counselor. I live in a home that inspires me both inside and out. Reid and I have open, meaningful communication with each other and our family. We invest fully in our relationships with friends and family. I own a small yoga center with a focus on mindfulness-based techniques for personal health. It is a space of welcome and warmth for my whole family, and my kids are surrounded by caring people. I embody a yoga teacher at the top of my game, studying, practicing and evolving my teaching to bring the very best to my students. I am active and strong and spend a lot of time outdoors hiking, paddling and running. Reid and I love each other first and most, make each other laugh every day, and never take our love for granted.
Last month, I turned 34. This vision has already come to life for me.
After the Thanksgiving break, I hadn’t been in the studio for nearly 2 full days. I opened the door, went through the process of turning on lights and heat and music, and I felt I knew every step with my eyes closed. I felt – simply – at home. I feel at home because everyone greets me warmly. I feel at home because people welcome Flapjack even when he gets noisy. I feel at home because I get belly rubs and warm wishes every day. And, I feel at home because I know my daughter will also get to feel at home at The Yoga Harbor. It will be one more place where she can find a community of people who care about her.
I had that growing up. I had my house, my Gram and Pap’s house, my Nana’s house, my Aunt and Uncle’s house, and the soccer field all within a mile of home base. I had tradition, familiarity, and reliability in every one of those places. Leaving my childhood behind, moving across the country – twice – and starting over in a vastly different place was the best thing I ever did. It was also the worst. It robbed me of that reliability, and I’ve fought to regain it ever since. My yoga mat was home base during years of transition; I found a permanent home in my body when I wasn’t quite connecting with the home around me.
The warmth exploding in my heart right now is the simple warmth of knowing I am where I belong.
I hope you find this at The Yoga Harbor. I want our studio to be a second home to you like it is to me. I hope we can provide a sense of consistency and ownership. Mostly, I hope we provide a safe space for your practice. Because, at the end of the day, your practice will always be your home.