I’ve always thought of home as a place where I resided. It was external. In meditation, home is an internal oasis of spaciousness and calm. My meditation teacher instructed me to return home when I noticed my mind wandering and I was lost in thought. Home could be the breath, a word or phrase or even feeling your feet touching the floor. It served to anchor the mind and foster equanimity—except when it didn’t. In my early days of meditating, home was problematic. I didn’t perceive it as a warm and welcoming place where I could rest. It evoked some painful memories. Sometimes I’d have an attack of the “if onlys”. If only it (me) was different then I could be happy. If only I was married…then I’d be content, If only, when I was married I didn’t live in Worcester…then I’d be happy. If only… I got restless if I spent too much time at home. I wanted to be busy and be doing something new and exciting. As I have aged, I get tired more easily and I am less enamored with doing and much more appreciative of simply being. Home is where I can rest and appreciate “just this”. I enjoy sitting in a chair and reading a book. I like going grocery shopping and examining the fruit and vegetables. I like that I am in remission from cancer and can walk, breathe, and use all my senses. I know I am in the latter years of my life and bad things happen as well as good ones. Nothing BIG happening feels like a miracle. Everything changes but I am here now, alive, awake, and present. It’s a gift. I do not take it for granted.

In the past when I returned from vacation, I was disappointed it had ended. Now I realize that vacation is a state of mind. Returning home helps me experience anew what I often take for granted. I freshly appreciate the comfort of my bed. The mattress is not too soft or hard and supports my back. I’m enjoying my bathroom. I don’t have to climb over the side of a tub to take a shower and the water pressure and temperature are just right. I even find doing the laundry satisfying. I didn’t rush to unpack but I listened to my body and rather than immediately put everything away I only did the essentials and went to sleep early. The house looked good. It was undisturbed, nothing major broken and the plants hadn’t died: Heaven. Of course, there are bumps in my equanimity. When I awoke the next day I went to my car to go to an exercise class and I couldn’t open the car door. As I looked down at the key I held in my hand I realized it was not the one for my car but David’s. We take his car for our vacation and leave mine behind. I searched all the places I thought it could be and couldn’t find it. This upset me. I was especially upset because this was the second time I did this. David reassured me that it wasn’t so bad. Since this happened before we now have a backup key. About two years ago I couldn’t find my car key and we were forced to have a new one made. About six months later I found the key hidden on a clip in my daypack. This year I did not take the daypack. I am hoping they are in another “safe” location and will be retrieved.

It’s good to be home but being at the beach in the summer is special. Our puppy, Maya, is now four months old and she became socialized by running with other dogs early in the morning along the beach. Dogs are permitted on the beach until 10 AM, and a group of regulars walk their dogs. We see many of the same people year after year. We remember their dogs and they remember ours. We received condolences for our loss of Zeke and admiration for our new pup. Maya was admired, and petted, and people noticed her growing bigger and more confident. “She’s found her voice”, one woman said. We felt like proud parents and cheered when she overcame fear and leaped across a creek on the beach that fed into the ocean.

Re-entry after a beach vacation is often difficult for me. Our first day back was hot and I missed walking with David and Maya along the shore and going for a quick swim. I loved walking along the path to the beach under a canopy of trees that opens to a vista of sand, sea, and sky. I feel one with nature and the rhythm of changing tides and seas. I sit in our yard behind our house. It too is beautiful but different. I am home here and there. Here are neighborhood dogs for Maya to play with. Maya is meeting them, and I feel appreciative of the tips their owners, our friends, are giving us. She is engaged with her toys, but we must open the door for her to go out into the yard to pee or poo. It takes time for her to reacclimate too. She has had a few accidents since we were back. We are training her to use the doggie door, and the yard will be fenced in like it was at our rental so she can go out on her own again. Nothing stays the same, dogs, people, the beach. How fortunate to have a home inside and out—just this: Enough.

I look forward to sharing our summer experiences and what they have taught us at the next Aging with Wisdom group via Zoom. I hope you can join me September 9th at 11AM , EDT