84 Bethlehem Pike (Rear)
Philadelphia, PA 19118

(610) 608-8095




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I moved last weekend. Man, was that hard. It was a good move. My kids and I moved from a small, two bedroom apartment in Mount Airy to a 3 bedroom house in Wyndmoor with a driveway, garage and our own yard. The new house is a couple minutes closer to everything in my life! It was, and is, still hard.

The week leading up to the move was pretty hectic. Packing every day, running around, still having mom stuff to do and trying to work. My movers came on Friday and that was a traumatic experience in itself. If you ever need to hire a mover, call me, so I can tell you who not to hire. The movers left around one on Friday and I started crying…and cried on and off the rest of the day; which really took me by surprise. This was a good move! I should be happy right?!

Saturday morning I woke up early (no curtains yet to keep out that 6am sunshine), started drinking my coffee and started crying. My first thought was, ‘oh no…you are NOT doing this all day.’ So I got dressed, slathered myself in essential oils and went to the 8am yoga class at my studio. I NEVER go to that class. I either have my kids on Saturdays or refuse to get out of bed before 9 on Saturdays, but I needed to GO somewhere. And the studio was the only place that felt like home in that moment. The new house surely didn’t and the old house wasn’t mine anymore…so to my mat I went.

The rest of the weekend went on, sometimes crying, sometimes not. By Monday I was coming up for air, and by Tuesday at my therapist appointment I was feeling better. She was not surprised by my reaction to the move and said that, if you believe in this sort of thing, physical spaces (homes, apartments, etc.) can hold a lot for people. Moving on from a physical space leaves behind everything that happened in that space but also marks a passing of time. I’m on board with that. That makes sense to me.

A few days later I was back at the studio dropping of paychecks and I ran into Andrea and Patty (teachers at tAra Yoga). Patty is also moving and we were talking about our experiences and Andrea read us this passage she had just seen on the Facebook page of Dreamwork with Toko-pa: “They say a place becomes yours only after you lose something precious there. The earth absorbs your grief and then, moist with suffering, new things begin to grow in your likeness. Separation makes you better at love. Weeping makes you easier to laugh. Dying makes you better at living.” So all the tears we cry in a place, essentially, are absorbed into the earth where we are, in order to grow new things. Beautiful.

It made me think of my instinct to go directly to my yoga studio. A place where so many people have put so many things down. A place where people have come to put down the stress from their day or to grieve the loss of a loved one. A place where tears are shed and a place where we start to laugh so hard at something we have to go to child’s pose to regain control of ourselves. So much is absorbed into the earth there and so much has grown because of that. It’s no wonder so many people can walk into that space and feel better just because they are there. It’s no wonder they can take a deep breath just because they sat down on their mat. This is why a yoga studio feels like home. This is why people keep coming back to the same space and putting their mats in the same spot. That place has become theirs.

It now makes sense to me why it felt so bad to move out of my apartment. I got sober there. I ended a toxic relationship there. I closed the door on my past self there. Out of that has grown a better life, beautiful relationships, a new career path and so much more. I am so grateful for that space and the things I was able to put down there. I am grateful for my yoga studio and that it is a safe space where hundreds of people can put things down. And I look forward to the new things that will grow in our likenesses.