New York
Imagine the world as a huge bulletin board. I used to be held in one place by a tack made of a house, cars, belongings and our business. Since we removed that tack three years ago and started floating around the bulletin board, my thoughts on home and paradise have changed.
As much as Cara Mia is 'home' to me, so too is the Airbnb room in Corte Madera, California, the guest room at my mom's in Roswell, New Mexico, and the studio apartment on Rue Ligner in Paris. Without that tack pulling me back to a certain spot on the planet, I find myself utterly content to be wherever I've landed, completely settled by just unpacking my bag.
In the same way, I used to define paradise as a tropical island with turquoise water and white sand beaches. While we could park ourselves and our boat permanently in that luscious version of paradise, there's a reason we use that trite French phrase 'vivre la différence.' Paradise for me is a changing tableau, varying sights, sounds, foods and people, changing scenes and seasons. We are delightfully 'untacked,' free to experience it all.
This week, we have unpacked our bags in Jersey City, just across the Hudson River from Manhattan. Chip is continuing his wine consulting gig here. So, while Cara Mia waits in St. Augustine, we are 'home' in New York, seeing family and friends, eating amazing food and watching this beautiful water feature outside our apartment window, this month's version of paradise.
And soon enough, we'll be parked once again in that tropical version of paradise, toes in the sand, relishing it all the more for having left behind the cold, gray bustle of the city.
Imagine the world as a huge bulletin board. I used to be held in one place by a tack made of a house, cars, belongings and our business. Since we removed that tack three years ago and started floating around the bulletin board, my thoughts on home and paradise have changed.
As much as Cara Mia is 'home' to me, so too is the Airbnb room in Corte Madera, California, the guest room at my mom's in Roswell, New Mexico, and the studio apartment on Rue Ligner in Paris. Without that tack pulling me back to a certain spot on the planet, I find myself utterly content to be wherever I've landed, completely settled by just unpacking my bag.
In the same way, I used to define paradise as a tropical island with turquoise water and white sand beaches. While we could park ourselves and our boat permanently in that luscious version of paradise, there's a reason we use that trite French phrase 'vivre la différence.' Paradise for me is a changing tableau, varying sights, sounds, foods and people, changing scenes and seasons. We are delightfully 'untacked,' free to experience it all.
This week, we have unpacked our bags in Jersey City, just across the Hudson River from Manhattan. Chip is continuing his wine consulting gig here. So, while Cara Mia waits in St. Augustine, we are 'home' in New York, seeing family and friends, eating amazing food and watching this beautiful water feature outside our apartment window, this month's version of paradise.
And soon enough, we'll be parked once again in that tropical version of paradise, toes in the sand, relishing it all the more for having left behind the cold, gray bustle of the city.
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| Bundled up and happy in our neighborhood bar. |
Looks like you are at home wherever you go! Good for you! Stay warm.
ReplyDeleteLaura
Very thought-provoking insights.
ReplyDeleteI love everything about this.
ReplyDeleteI love everything about you. ;-)
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