Feeling at Home in Your Heart

That feeling of being at home. I would guess that a place comes to mind initially upon hearing that phrase, and while I can relate, I’ve come to know other layers of this feeling of home in my adult years. When I reflect on my wedding day almost two years ago, the only way that feels remotely adequate to describe how it felt was to say it felt like home. Not in the sense of a physical location, but in this calm, comforting way of being with people who I’ve loved and been loved by and who I’ve grown with throughout my life. It felt safe, it felt secure, it felt historical. I felt known, understood, valued, honored, and “felt”. Something I am so thankful to have learned as an adult is that a sense of being at home can be so much more than a place where you hang your coat and keep your keys. The feeling of home can be held by how we feel in dynamic relationships with others, as well as how we connect to ourselves and how settled we feel inside.

In traveling to Santorini, Greece for my honeymoon, I was not expecting to feel at home in myself in a country I’ve never visited before and a continent I haven’t been on in nearly six years. The sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and feelings surprisingly brought me to that sense of home in little glimmers, however, leaving my heart soaring in memory moment after moment. At first, I thought that perhaps the memories were connected to locations, to physical places I’ve been that I’ve left a piece of my heart along the way, but the more I sat with it, the more I began to realize that each memory was a key to a part of myself that felt grounded and at home.

I caught the scent of fresh basil while wandering the streets of Fira, and it took me back to Naples, Italy with memories of extended dinners of pizza and pasta with friends who felt like family where nobody checked their watches. And then there’s that delicately sweet scent of gelato that’s just enough to entice you without making your stomach churn like some of the overly sweet desserts in the US. The fragrance of gelato carried me from memories of the gelato place called Sneezy’s near my apartment in Pozzuoli to enjoying gelato in Florence. My brain also connected this scent to the creperies in Paris, where one of my best friends convinced a worker to let her make a crepe, and where we nearly ate our weight in dessert over the course of four days. Then those memories led me to my 26th birthday, which I celebrated back in Paris with creme brulee.

Of course, that led me to remembering more flavors of Europe, starting with that first taste of coffee in Greece, dark and bitter, just as I like it, scrumptious and satisfying without cream or sugar. The feta in Greece reminded me of all the wonderful cheeses to be relished in Europe: gouda in Amsterdam, mozzerella di bufala in Naples, ricotta and gorgonzola in Italy, brie in France, khachapuri in Tblisi, cheddar in England, manchego in Spain, and emmentaler in Germany. I would be remiss not to mention the bread in Europe- light and airy, fluffy and flaky. I cannot tolerate gluten in the US, but I’m able to enjoy bread in Europe with few consequences. Overall, the food is just so fresh in Europe, and as much as I love Wegmans and Whole Foods, the quality of food simply doesn’t compare.

Something I didn’t realize I missed since I was in Europe last was the sound of other languages all around me, some that I can decipher bits of and some foreign to my ear. It is like enjoying a complex and unique symphony that changes moment by moment. There were certainly times where I was frustrated and embarrassed while living in Italy because I was unable to understand or express myself adequately, but there’s something magical to me about being in a place where every word matters and you’re listening for just one single word you can recognize for a fleeting moment of connection and understanding. Granted, we encountered more tourists than locals in Santorini, but there has been something delightful about hearing Greek, French, German, Italian, and other languages I am unfamiliar with swirling around me. I was also surprised to have missed the delicate sound of the clink of a cup of tea landing on its saucer gently. There was something so satisfying about drinking tea from a cup and saucer.

The sight of the alleys lined with shops in Fira reminded me of exploring Salzburg, Austria and shopping in Sorrento, Italy. The sight and scent of leather in some of the Fira shops took me back to Florence and how I felt like my heart already knew Florence the moment I arrived for my first visit. Something else I appreciate visually is that in general, people take care to pay attention to the little details in Europe, to those little meaningful bits of life. The food we enjoyed at restaurants was artfully displayed, and people are well dressed.

While I didn’t miss the feeling of the bumpy and slippery cobblestone underneath my feet, I did miss the feeling of just being in Europe. It’s difficult to explain, but I felt lighter and brighter and less rushed. I experienced a sense of calm as opposed to a frenetic energy to get things done that I experience in my normal life. This could be partially attributed to being on vacation, sure, but the energy of the environment around me also felt different and reminded me of when I lived in Italy.

Each of these little memories connected me to a part of myself that I’d forgotten, to a part that enjoys life. There was so much joy and enjoyment of the simple things our on trip to Greece. We watched the sun rise and set nearly everyday, we ate food with simple yet delicious ingredients, we walked and walked and walked everyday, we read books for pleasure and just lived moment by moment. It was a lot easier to be present when each day was about joy than what I have to get done.

In the movie, The Vow, there’s a line in Paige’s wedding vows that has always resonated with me: “I vow… to live with in the warmth of your heart, and always call it home.” Of course, she’s saying it to her husband in the movie, but I want to make this vow to myself, to live in the warmth of my own heart and always call it my home, where I can soak in the simple moments that mean everything and connect to that part of myself that prioritizes joy above work and tasks and busy-ness. In my pursuit of the meaningful bits of life, I think I have placed too much emphasis on getting it right and perfect and there hasn’t been room for joy. I see this pattern in my everyday life and here in my blog. I think it’s part of what has kept me from choosing to show up and post. Ironically, meaning doesn’t come from perfection or being right, but from being connected to our own hearts.

I’d love to hear from you about how you prioritize joy in your life and what meaningful bits of life have led you to feeling at home in your own heart.

0