I’ve been back in the District for just over a month now, settling back into the rhythms of home.
You see, I’ve always been reluctant, even after 11 (!) years, to claim the District as home. I still have a Jersey driver’s license.
Like many people who first come to DC, I came as an idealist, to pursue a career in Middle East peacebuilding.
Many folks who’ve come here with their own ‘Save the World’ story have moved on. Perhaps to the thrills of the ex-pat life abroad. Or to throw down roots in their hometowns and start families with 2.5 kids. Or grad school. Or whatever. Many friends, come and gone.
What remains at the surface is a transient town consumed with status and power, of drunk dudes in bad suits at happy hour. At the surface that is… but that’s not my DC.
As I’ve settled back in, I’ve not only immersed in the communities of friends, mentors, and clients who inspire and ground me, but have cultivated renewed gratitude for the intentional home of my creation. Where I can celebrate the DC Pride Parade and easily transition to a Ramadan Iftar in the same weekend.
On a recent episode of Synchronicity with Noah Lampert, one of my favorite podcasts these days, guest Mikey Kampmann posited that home is the feeling of being at ease with your own self. To stop bracing and let your guard down.
And here I am. Finding home in my own path and career in nutrition and yoga, working with folks to create space in their lives for their physical and emotional health amidst the DC hustle.
And what a fine, blessed place to be.
Catch me on the mat and enjoy these summer days.