Going Home

I am back in Atlanta for the holidays, first time in about 6 months. Now that I am home, I always ask myself what does it mean to be home? What is home? Well, some say home is where the heart is, or wherever you want it to be, or maybe it is wherever you need it to be.

In the Wheel Of Time, Werner Herzog asked the Dalai Lama where the center of the universe is. He responded, right here and pointed straight down. We all are the center of the Universe, our own universe. Home most be our personal center of the universe, and if the center of the universe is here and now, then home must be wherever you are.

I like to think of it differently. When I lived in New York, I always wanted to leave the island. I would go months without leaving Manhattan, and it would make me miserable. Whenever I did leave, I always wanted to go back.

I called New York home when I was away and called Atlanta home when I was there. I think home is the places we leave - never realizing we were home until we move on. One can never physically be home. It is unattainable. It is where I was, but never where I am. For me, I am always leaving and going home.