For the next 3 months, I will be away from home. I have a rough itinerary for my first month away, but all I really know for sure is that I won’t be back in my home for at least 3 months. Since I started planning for this trip, and during my first two weeks away, I’ve found myself thinking about what it means to be at home. There are things that I have felt for as long as I can remember: that I feel at home in California, that I feel at home with Mexican people wherever they happen to be, that I feel at home when I’m at the beach, that I feel at home whenever I’m with really close friends, that I feel at home in my lover’s arms, that I feel at home when I am drinking hot water or dancing or out in nature.

What, though, does being at home really mean? What does “home” feel like? How can I recognize it? And are there ways to create that feeling of “being at home” regardless of where I am or who is with me, whether I am in a crowd or all alone, whether I am doing something I love doing or doing something I don’t particularly enjoy? How can I become the source of that feeling of “being at home,” and how can I call forth that feeling whenever I want?

When I feel at home, I feel a sense of ease, even lightness, in my body. I feel expanded rather than contracted. I feel fully present. I feel love and compassion, for myself and for the people I’m interacting with. When I feel at home, I feel okay with whatever is. I am in a place of acceptance of whatever circumstances happen to exist at the moment. I’m not fighting anything. But I’m not disengaged from anything either. In fact, I’m fully engaged, completely touched by everything around me — from a place of being fully connected with me. It feels somehow sacred, being in this body, in this life, in this moment. There is nowhere else I would rather be.

For me it’s a different feeling than feeling comfortable. Comfort can come from feeling safe or at ease, but it can also come from familiarity. Being self-critical can feel comfortable, being in an unhealthy relationship can feel comfortable, being in a job that you don’t feel passionate about or in which you aren’t growing can feel comfortable.

Being at home means being fully present where I am. It means fully inhabiting my body. It means being present for and with my emotions and my inner experience. It means being fully connected with myself, loving and honoring myself, and open to learning and growing.

Do you ever find yourself in situations that you wish you could extract yourself from with a snap of your fingers? Do you ever feel so uneasy or uncomfortable or impatient or sick or annoyed that you wish you could just crawl out of your own skin? Do you ever find yourself thinking that if you could just change that person or get a new job or have the newest gadget or have more free time, then you would finally feel happy or fulfilled or at peace?

Next time you find yourself feeling any of these things, take a moment to connect with yourself, to come home to yourself. Breathe. As you do, allow your breath to fill you, to expand within you. Get back into your body, this amazing vehicle for being here in this life, in this moment. Use your senses to get present. What do you see around you right now? What can you smell? What do you hear? Can you feel your feet on the ground? Can you feel the weight of your body? Can you find some gratitude for the gift of this moment? Ask yourself what you are feeling, and bring in compassion for whatever you are feeling. Focus on what you appreciate about yourself.

Many of the feelings that seem like they are caused by external circumstances or things or situations are really indications that somehow you aren’t feeling completely at home with yourself. Tend to that first. Get grounded and centered by coming home to yourself. Now you are in a position to look at the external things without projecting your disconnection with yourself, your internal dissonance, onto them. Now, you can look at the external things and assess them more accurately and respond to them more appropriately. Now, you can show up for others and for your life in the way that you truly want.

There’s a song called “Sing You Home” that my sweetheart shared with me. It’s a song about someone grieving the death of a loved one. But there’s a part of the song that reverberates through me as I travel along. I sing it aloud, to myself:

“I sing for you because I have to
Right now this is all I know
You always said you wanted me to
So I will sing you home, I will sing you home.”

Here on the road, away from home, wherever I am, wherever I roam, I am my source of being and feeling at home.