A new home introduces itself slowly to you.
When you roll out of a cab following a red eye flight from the west coast, you become acutely aware of the nearest coffee shop, the proximity of the subway entrance and which subway lines go by “your place.” With that kind of fatigue, you can’t help but let the mind race through the logistics of this new life that you’re about to create in this quaint corner of the city.
Let me see where my caffeine shot will originate and what my commute looks like to the office. I’ll figure out the rest after I’ve slept for a few hours.
The first night of my one month journey in Manhattan, I walked through the neighborhood and clipped away in the photography mode of my phone. The twinkling lights of Little Italy’s restaurants and the cobble stone of streets named Mulberry, Elizabeth and Spring spelled charming. The restaurants were framed in wood and muted lights, making for cozy settings that invited you in for hours of conversation over cocktails that were way too expensive but totally worth it. The storefronts were colorful and deliberate. Rarely would one find a drab, commercial awning with the basic details like a phone number and name of said store. Polka dots, foreign languages, prayer flags, bold colors, marvelous words like “wonder” – this was the stuff of Soho’s storefronts.
Even though I had grown up outside Manhattan and spent many ages in this gothic city, it was my first time playing the role of resident. This time around, I would buy yoga and spinning class memberships. I would go grocery shopping. I would roll my eyes at the tourists in Times Square. Tasks like this spelled resident.
There’s a process that happens as your new home introduces itself to you. As you set aside the produce you purchased and finger through the cupboards to learn where the plates are piled, home begins to happen.
Transcending above a distinct location or a specific property rented out for a month or 20 years, home is when you set up your camp anywhere in the world and start again. And that camp can include your belongings, your mending heart, your memories of past homes, your vision for future homes, the emotional compass within, your habits, or how you like to fold the paper bags from the grocery after you have put items away. The process of re-acquainting yourself with you and all your own raw material, made clear and uncompromising against a new backdrop.