You can never go home because home, the way we remember it, doesn’t really exist. It is a figment of our imagination. We attach emotion and memory to place and time and it is rare that two people will remember an event with the same details, same feeling, same description. We then hang on to that emotion and memory, embellishing as we see fit : best day ever; most horrible time of my life.
It’s not that this is bad, or wrong. Rather it just is what it is for us – an event, a place remembered with emotion, with sentiment.
Today, the only way for me to get my yoga in was to go to a 3:30 class at my old studio. That statement sounds innocuous enough, right? No loaded meaning for any of you…yet for me, it should read: The only way to get my yoga in today is to bite the bullet and get my butt across the street. It’s time to put this behind you.
What??? I had not been to the “old” studio in over a year. Really, this place is my home studio, where I started the yoga (although the actual studio I started in is up the street at the end of the block). I taught here for a year and then, no more. I had strong, strong feelings – no way was I EVER going back there. I carried the scene in my head and my heart like a shield, or like a blunt instrument to use on myself. Ironically, I moved to a condo across the street…still, nope, not going there.
So what has changed? The studio I now work for and the “old” one are becoming one on Sunday, officially. Time for me to bury the hatchet for so many reasons, not the least of which is that I can go practice across the street – very convenient.
Needless to say, I felt some trepidation and nervousness today when I decided to go…it feels different over there, not like home any more (my current studio is very homey!). It will take some getting used to , but once there, I didn’t feel uncomfortable – just not quite comfortable yet. Perhaps I am not over the emotion yet – although to be fair, my feelings are much more tied into the people who were involved as opposed to the building / studio itself.
Could it not be as well that I am not the same person as I was a year ago? That it feels different because I am different? It’s not only circumstance that has changed. It’s like every single yoga class…different, always different.
The challenge is making me pay attention to how I am feeling now – allowing me to get it out instead of stuff it down or ignore it like it wasn’t there. This is a good thing. It is also making me pay attention to those dark, ignored spaces that I have allowed to fester by shining bright lights in every nook and cranny.
It is good to clean house.