Next we headed towards New York City – Greenwich Village – where we both were born and I was raised during my first years of life. I don’t remember much of this time – although it was fun to see the brownstone I vaguely remember. And we went to the infamous ‘Beam Building’ otherwise known as the Empire State Building. On the rooftop of the brownstone, my father would point out the beam in the sky that issued forth from the Empire State Building – and I would marvel in delight. I have to say while the Empire State Building didn’t awe me as much as a child, I did marvel in delight at all the lights of Time Square – which television simply does not do justice.
I was also awed by the Statue of Liberty and loved the quaint little restaurants and elegant hotels of old that New York has; there is indeed an energy here which I could see could be addicting. But then people from Chicago say the same thing about their city too.
I was born in New York and raised in Rochester then moved to Central Florida (where New Yorkers were transplanting themselves). I once considered all these places my ‘home’. Now I live in the Chicago area – and have for close to fifteen years. Yet I don’t consider this area to be ‘home’ – or at least I didn’t until my summer trip to back east.
Home is where your heart is and where you lay your hat, figuratively speaking. I thought home for me was New York – but I found out that was simply where happy and not so happy memories lie. I lay down a few demons in this trip – and so now more happy memories than not remain for me. You can go home again—and all the past and present memories will remain intact—this I know for me is true.
I had fun on this trip, exploring new places and old. My memories served me well in traversing the past and I was glad I went. Once I was a New Yorker; but not so much any more. I don’t consider myself a mid-western either. My home is my sanctuary—a spot to lay my head and to contemplate the world while watching TV on my couch or for entertaining friends and family.
I have learned that it doesn’t matter where my home is…it is important to be present in my physical home where ever my heart is. And my heart and soul are travelers and explorers.
The old adage of you can’t go home again was wrong – you can and many a times, you should. It is a method of clearing the soul and setting the spirit on a new path. At least it was for me.
With Love and Light Always,