ORIGINAL PUBLISH DATE: January 24, 2012
Today as I was walking to teach a yoga class in the neighborhood, I smiled at a man who was tending to his dogs, and he said, “You wish you were in Atlanta now!” He was clearly referring to the biting cold of the January morning. (He was probably trying to pre-empt a word from me on the indignity of carrying around a bag of freshly scooped dog poop.) I smiled and said, “Yeah!” without a thought. As soon as the word left my mouth, I felt I’d betrayed something...
I don’t like winter. I don’t relish the cold. AS a matter of fact my fingers and toes actually turn white and go numb proving that I am not cut out for it. But as I walked on I thought, who was that and how did he know where I had moved from... the realization dawned on me that I had introduced myself as part of the announcements at church last weekend in a pitch for a women’s retreat, and had mentioned that we moved here from Atlanta not so very long ago. So that’s why he knew something about me and I didn’t know anything about him except he had really cute dogs and a bag of poop in his hand... BUT wait, did I really wish I was in Atlanta? I looked around, as I walked next to my children’s school I looked up at the warm windows of the classrooms... then toward my church home in this neighborhood full of pleasantries, and smiles, dogs, walking, biking, kids playing and glasses of wine on the porch... and knew that certainly, I am right where I am supposed to be.