The other day I was on the phone with Ashley and I could hear her 3 year-old in the background calling for her. She turned her attention to him and I heard “mamma, I wanna go home”, to what Ashley replied “buddy, you are home”.
Indeed, they were both in their kitchen.
Ever since I left Argentina, about 14 years ago, I’ve been trying to understand the concept of “home”. We’re naturally drawn to associating “home” with a physical space, so when I started traveling my home felt at first long lost.
Eventually and for the sake of avoiding nostalgia turning into melancholy, I started thinking of “home” in a utilitarian way. For the first few years, my home was whatever my shelter was: hostels, guest houses, hotels, even hammocks for a little while. Home was that place I’d come back to after a day of adventures.
There was, however, a missing element. Even though I would very rarely feel unsafe, these places where never fully a home where I could let my guard down and embrace complete peace and relaxation. At the end of the day, I was constantly surrounded by strangers, so common sense alertness was part of the deal.
Another missing element was the sense of belonging. As much as I would try to immerse myself in the culture I was visiting, I never stayed in the same place for long enough to be embraced back. Every video call with my friends and family was yet another reminder of how far from home I actually was.
Yoga talks about Svastha. Literally translated, it means "to stand in one's own self" or to be established in our true nature.
In yoga and Ayurveda, this is the ultimate definition of health and well-being. It is a state where we feel completely comfortable, safe, and aligned within our own body, mind, and spirit—the spiritual equivalent of feeling completely at home.
For years I tried to think of svastha when missing home. And for the most part, it did the trick: we can engage with a self-centered definition for home and find it within our peace and authenticity. That is, after all, the yogic way.
However, we are social beings. It would be difficult to feel fully at home without a community defining that home.
Living in Sandpoint for the last seven years has had its ups and downs. For the most part, I was ok with it being something close enough to a concept of “home”. Most spaces I occupied within Sandpoint felt like a home and I used that feeling to justify some other aspects of my life in Sandpoint feeling, at times, like the opposite of a home.
I only understood the importance of looking for “home” within every single space we occupy (without exceptions or compromises) once the events of this last March made me feel explicitly as an outsider. One of the spaces I would occupy two times a week showed me with actions and words that I was worth less that someone with lighter skin. I was bullied, lied to, abused, discriminated. That home collapsed.
Every space we occupy has the potential to be a safe space where we can peacefully exist. After March, I was left missing a “home” for my yoga practice. I still had the home for my family, for my friends, for my community. But yoga is a big part of me and, as such, needs its own safe, loving home.
I didn’t fully understand how much I’d been longing the “home” feeling for my yoga practice and teachings until Grounded became a thing. For years I had allowed myself to exist within a very curated (yet fragile) bubble that would act as a yoga home. However, it existed within an unsafe space.
My last four months of teaching and practicing yoga have been the truest, most authentic yoga experiences I’ve had since moving to Sandpoint. I got to reconnect with myself as a teacher and as a student, feeling supported and protected. I got to let my guard down, knowing I was no longer surrounded by danger. I felt aligned with my body, mind, and spirit, finally understanding that I was no longer being forced to fit a mold.
I heard a “no, I wanna go home” on the other side of the phone - this time with a louder, more emphatic pronunciation. Ashley asked “wait, you want to go outside?”, to which little Beckland replied “yes, home”.
My 3 year-old nephew has always loved being outside. He rides his bike, he picks rocks, he points at the clouds, and he would much rather be covered head to toe in mud over having a warm bubble bath. He runs around, jumps on puddles, picks up sticks, and he just outgrew tasting the different kinds of dirt he encounters. He lives in a happy home, surrounded by a loving family and all the things he needs for his health and safety. However, the physical home might be too constrictive for him. It is outside where he thrives, where he can fully be himself, where he can embody svastha.
Maybe the Hobby Lobby signs were right all along. Maybe home is simply where your heart is.
At home, we let our true selves be free. The masks we might choose to wear from time to time, come off. We get to feel comfortable enough to experience safety. At home, nothing is expected from us, and we can just be. Our home is populated by the people that welcome and accept our truest svastha.
Grounded has become a home for many, and I hope I get to share my home with many more.
A simple prompt to explore svastha:
Grab a piece of paper and draw big circles: one of each aspect of your life (for example, mine is: family, friends, community, work).
Each of these circles will represent your homes. Spend some time writing or thinking about how each home feels. Do you feel svastha? How can your home be more svastha-friendly?
A Yoga pose to connect with sarvajnatva: Your favorite one!
Find a quiet spot and set a timer for two minutes. Get yourself into your favorite yoga pose. Don’t overthink it, it will likely be your first option. Hold the pose whilst breathing deeply. Notice how you feel.