Greetings from Charm City!
After an epically hectic month of moving, driving up and down the Eastern Seaboard, and reorienting myself to the world south of the Mason Dixon line, I’m back! Everyone and nearly all of our belongings survived the trek down. Incidentally, the one item that I happened to leave behind was my laptop, meaning this period of "funemployment" turned into a happenstance staycation, and I have to say, I really needed it.
Giving myself permission to sit by the pool with a good book has made me feel more contented and more connected to the present moment than I have in a long time. To be still, and even to be lazy at times, can help us to better know ourselves and better appreciate the given moment. Case in point: reading words written by a man forty years ago, quite literally on the other side of the world, made me stop in my tracks to read (and re-read) the lines that were so poignantly pertinent to my present.
Even though I'm feeling more present and more grounded than I have in quite some time that feeling of instant connection to a place is something that has been missing in Baltimore. Don't get me wrong, it's pretty cool here; I found a cute little neighborhood studio to practice at and a nice low-key farmers' market just down the street every Saturday morning, but it doesn't quite yet feel like home. That longing for belonging is not to be dismissed lightly. A connection to a place serves a purpose. It anchors us so that we can go out and lead our lives from a place and a platform so that no matter where we go we are still inherently grounded in ourselves.
At times like this I have to remind myself that I didn't feel a connection to Boston at first, either. It took a different round of stillness and quiet for me to settle in and get grounded. Once again, after another upheaval, I've finally stopped moving and now it's time to put down roots.
I still miss Boston, but my roots simply extend a little further now. I'll always have a connection to the places I've called home, the places I've lived in for years, and the places I've only wandered through but felt instantly drawn into; there's room in my life for all of them. There are also little reminders from homes-past that I can turn to when I need a little nostalgia, like this Raspberry Basil Soda. It's a summery recipe in homage of the Raspberry Seltzer from Flour, a Boston-favorite.