Do you belong where you currently are?

This post is emerging from my deepest parts, because I have been asking, wondering, questioning about where I belong for a while now.

Born in Sonoma Valley, CA.

Raised in Germany.

Moved from coast to coast numerous times; the Bay Area, Boston, NYC, Austin - you are all familiar to me.

I find myself tired of looking for a home that FEELS like home. And yet, I cannot imagine not to belong, not to feel resonance with the earth I live on and the people I live next to. Surrendering that search does not feel like an option to me.

I know what belonging feels like.

I belong into my family.

Into my marriage.

Into my profession.

Into motherhood.

Into the vast majority of my friendships.

Every cell of my body is in resonance with these aspects of my life.

If I am completely honest, I love California and always will, but the earth here feels foreign to me.

My senses love the redwoods and palm trees, the richness of Eucalyptus in the air, but I am not home here.

My bones feel damp here.

My body chilled.

I spoke with a vedic astrologer about where in the world I am mostly likely to thrive. The first thing out of his mouth: You health will suffer in California.

I didn’t know that, but I knew it.

You know what I mean?

Some days I just want to stay here, buy a house, and not think about it anymore.

I have friends here. I know my way around. I love my kids school. I love my work here. I am so grateful for many things here.

I am also afraid that if we dare to move again, I won’t feel at home there either… and then what? I am tired of moving. Of starting from scratch.

Then I start to regret ever leaving Brooklyn. I felt at home there. I adored our life there. I had solid community. I had my favorite walks, restaurants, coffee shops in the city.

The air smelled like home.

The seasons woke up a deep sense of remembering in me; making me feel alive and like the cyclical being I am.

I LOVED who I was allowed to become there: free, creative, grounded, confident. It was closer to Europe; closer to where both my husband and I are from; closer to our families; closer to love.

But if I imagine moving back now with two small kids who want to run, run, run and run some more, I wonder: Is NYC where WE belong? The four of us? My inner voice quietly shakes her head.

I knew that, too.

Is finding your earth belonging an elimination process? And if so, how long can I run this race and play this game? How many new friendships, addresses, state registrations, mail forwarding requests, can one handle, before you become numb and only remember true belonging as a faint idea that once existed in a lucid dream.

I don’t want to forget. But I also don’t want to regret.

So please, distract me from my own story, my own search, my own longing and tell me:

Do you belong where you currently are?

The land?

The country?

The family?

The friendships?

The profession?

Do you belong?