Homing
A Moving Meditation
I’m moving. Again. Time to take stock of all I’ve accumulated. As I sort through my stuff — books I’ve carried from place to place but have never read, albums I’ve lugged around for years after my turntable broke, fancy clothes I will wear someday, jars and jars of plant medicine I’ve yet to decant — I sort through the ideas, dreams, and memories tied to belongings. Once again, it’s time to pare down. What do I cling to? What do I give away?Â
I came to a beautiful flower farm in Western Massachusetts, in late October 2020 to finish Awakening Artemis and didn’t want to leave. I had been done with New York City for a long time. My apartments in the East Village, Williamsburg, Crown Heights, Prospect Heights, were places to keep things for a while. Even though I lived there for over twenty years, New York City never quite felt like home. In 2015, I moved in with a partner and while we fell in love, I went away to the wilds of Scotland and Costa Rica where I studied and facilitated retreats for longer and longer stretches of time. Each time I circled back to Brooklyn, my body and nervous system could barely stand the noise and my partner and I grew distant. We inhabited the same space but were moving in different directions.
So I nested here in Western Massachusetts. Spent money to fluff up my den with ethically sourced linen curtains, sheets, mustard-colored bedding, and embroidered pillows. I took dried herbs and fungi out of bags and filled and labeled mason jars that line my kitchen counters. It had been so long since I had space, a space that felt like mine. But still, something in me sensed this was a pitstop. I never really settled.
I have emotional connections to many places: to the land, to the people. I tend to go where I feel pulled. But home? I’m not sure where that is. I think about the fact that for over 95 percent of human existence, we have been nomads, carrying and taking only what was essential and dependent on the availability of forageable fruit, nuts, roots, and greens, the movement of animals, and changes in weather. Sometimes I wonder if we’re even meant to stay in one place. Certainly, we’re not meant to accumulate so much unnecessary stuff that exhausts the Earth while keeping us bogged down and tethered. I am trying to lighten up.
Today, my move is initiated by a new love. He feels like home.
Let’s see where we land.Â
