Lily’s home with a little cold today. She’s resting in our bed like I used to in my parents' room. I remember days like the one she’s having today. Home. In bed. Warm. Safe. Quiet. Apart from the activity of the rest of the world.
It’s fitting too, because I’ve been thinking a lot about home since she asked me the other day, “What is home to you, Maman?”
With the Jewish holidays rolling around it’s fitting, even natural, to reflect on family and celebrations past in the beautiful home I grew up in; The place that saw celebration after celebration, ordeal after ordeal, the building (feels funny to even call it that) that held the fullness of our family’s life day in and day out.
And, later this week I’ll be going back to spend a few days in the ashram I called home for many years, and which still feels like it in the best sense of the word: the most welcoming shelter for my being, where I get to let down the pretenses I didn’t even know I was carrying around, where I get to come back to my “why?” and rededicate myself to the most important relationship in my life, the one with my spiritual path.
It’s there where I come back to myself. The truest, most precious homecoming.
The poet saints refer to the body as a house, a temple even, where spirit takes residence. But today I’m thinking about home in this way, as the structures that shelter my being , the places that provide the framework within which life unfolds, the comfortable spaces where I feel welcomed and encouraged to simply be as I am.
I’m creating a new feature for our Skillful Yogi membership, daily writings about the home that yoga provides – the teachings, practices, learnings, the structures - that support a life lived from a stance of inner connection. It’s called the Yogi Home Companion.
It’s included with monthly membership to The Skilful Yogi. To find out more about the yogi home we’re building here, visit:
It would be a pleasure to welcome you.