I’ve been here a while now.

In this foreign land of flashing lights and rushing people,
Of too-small hallways and too-high-to-believe buildings.

I’ve pressed myself into countless crowded subway cars,
Jumped out of the way when my shower water inexplicably (but unfailingly) turns scalding hot,
Clocked in thousands of steps going up my four flights of winding stairs (the last one being the one that really gets you),
And woven through person after person on the street, as though I’m a car, like a true New Yorker.

I’ve been out here all by myself
In a place that feels as far from home as could be.

But I must say
The strongest sense of home
Has crept up
And stricken me
A few times now
When I’m not expecting it.

Home is
The feeling of going on a run
The familiar sensation of pushing myself to just keep going
The reward of a beautiful view
The tried and true playlist I know so well.
I discovered this little snippet of home the first time I took a run in the city, along the East River around twilight.

Home is
The feeling of walking into a yoga studio
The familiar creaks made by bare feet padding along wooden floorboards,
The familiar scent of lavender and burning candles
The challenge of flowing through these poses I’ve held a thousand times
The comfort of being told at the end that all I have to do is let the earth hold me
I discovered this little snippet of home the first time that I took a yoga class in the city, at New York Yoga.

Home is
The feeling of working my way through my morning routine
The slow, peaceful ritual of brewing my coffee and heating up my muffin
(then slathering it with almond butter)
The soft light and quiet morning sounds that accompany my morning reading
The migration to the couch as I continue to relax and ease into the day
The awareness that there’s nothing to hurry to, nothing to do but to enjoy this moment
I discovered this little snippet of home the first Saturday that I had to myself in the city, in my apartment on the Upper East Side.

Home is more of a feeling than a place, isn’t it?
It’s a deep sense of comfort,
A sense of, I know this.
It’s an exhale,
A soft flicker of contentedness
A suddenly visible string
Tethering you to what you know and love.

I am grateful to have found these little snippets of home
That made me forget that I am so far away

And soon enough,
This far-away place will start to feel like home, too.