Tonight is my last night in this beautiful building, and as I look out the window and my glorious city view through the pouring rain… I realize, I have no attachment to this place as my home. I never did develop a sense of solidity here.
Its funny. The more I learn through the teachings of yoga, we are taught to move toward non-attachment in many aspects of our lives, and I find myself being more able to separate from having a hope or desire for outcomes to be a certain way, yet … I almost feel that it is a very odd thing to not be somehow … perhaps, emotionally? … connected to the place where you rest your head at night. To where you sleep, eat, keep prized possessions, and find sanctuary from the world outside.
Something in me never … bonded with this home. This apartment truly is beautiful. And it has this lovely, fantastically cozy bench in the kitchen with a radiator under it, so it is (almost) always warm. And the view. (Have I mentioned the view?) I mean, really. This is kind of unreal:
And so cozy.
I will miss the vintage golden-yellow of the building that while standing in my kitchen made it almost possible for me to imagine I was standing in Italy… Almost. (I think it’s time stop almost imagining, and take a real trip to Italy).
I am excited about my new home. I somehow feel grounded in that space. I wanted it two years ago when I first discovered this building, and now I have achieved my home in this wonderful place, where I hope to find some peace and contentment.
with joy and happiness in being where we are…