.....arriving home

Yogis,
You know how there are places that when you arrive you feel you belong? As soon as you enter, your body relaxes, your senses awaken, and your heart lightens. Where it feels as if you have arrived home.

These places are different for all of us. For some it may be a specific country or city. For you it could be an art gallery or the theater. A place in nature……. the top of a mountain or sitting next to a running stream. It could be you spent time there as a child and it invokes warm memories. Or maybe you never spent time there at all, but yet, when you get there, it feels like it has been waiting for you all of this time.

Most of us also have more than one of these special sites. For me a garden is one of my homes. Any garden. The rest of the world falls away as I walk amongst my friends, the plants. Stepping into the hush of the woods also has this effect on me. My energy immediately syncs with that of the trees. I feel welcomed and hugged.

I have one other that I don’t think about much. A farm.

I have never lived on a farm, but I always say I would like to. I haven’t spent much time on farms but wish I could. There is something deep inside me that knows that on a farm I would feel a connection. I often thing that perhaps I lived there in some other life. I was reminded of this on Thursday.

A friend had recently mentioned a county owned agricultural history farm about a half hour north of me. I had to go get my vision test at a dmv location and looking at the map I realized the park was in that same geography. Field trip!

Heading up the long winding drive through freshly mowed rolling hills I start to get that tingle. Trees in bright oranges and yellows dot the landscape along side red barns and an old white farmhouse. I parked the car and began to explore. I was the only sole there. Around the first bend a large cornfield presented herself to me, the dried stalks waving in the breeze. I walked toward it and memories flood in.

When I was in 12 we lived in a house on a one block street that dead ended into a cornfield. After school one of our neighborhood activities was to play hide and seek within the rows of corn. I remember the sound. Stalks towering overhead making it easy to get lost. Not wanting to be found I sat quiet and still which gave me the gift of presence. Alone with the corn.

I walked along the field on Thursday to reconnect.

One of the small red barns was a chicken coop. I sat on the low bench watching two chickens grooming themselves. I talked to them. I sang to them. I took their pictures. I know it’s not for everyone, but I was completely content to sit there for a half hour. The sun shone and there was nowhere else I would rather have been. A bluebird flies by.

My heart was happy. I could live there.

Where is it that you feel you are arriving home? I would love to hear.

Farm girl at heart,
SARAH