Coming Home: Reflections on Finding Home Within
©Photo by Laura Wencker for ISLA Yoga & Ayurveda
They say home is where the heart is. I say home is where we are connected with our soul.
Since I can remember noticing my conscious mind, I have heard a quiet, persistent voice inside me: “I want to go home.” Often, I was already at my apartment, surrounded by familiar objects, yet the feeling was deeper, more elusive. Who was speaking? Surely it was my soul, or perhaps my higher self, calling me toward something that could not be found on any map.
The First Homes We Find
In life, we discover home in stages. The first home is the womb of our mother, our parents, or the family that our karma chooses. Later, we seek a professional home, carving our place in the world of work or creative expression, finding our dharma. Then, we look for a home with someone else, building together a shared life, a space that feels anchored in love and mutual understanding.
And yet, the wheel of life turns relentlessly. Homes change. People leave. Careers shift. Cities transform. Even the most stable havens may vanish, leaving behind a fleeting sense of homelessness, a restless yearning. We seek belonging outside of ourselves, in possessions, people, achievements, or places, unaware that the true home we long for has always been within.
The Inner Home
The spiritual path has taught me that home is not a physical place. It is not a house, a city, or a country—though it can manifest through them. Home is an inner landscape, a quiet sanctuary within the self. It is where we anchor, where we find the source code of our being, the eternal, unshakable essence of our soul.
This realization struck me on a simple evening walk with our dog. The sky was soft with the last light of day, the air crisp and still. And suddenly, it became clear: you are always home, no matter where you live, no matter how your life looks. Home is not outside—it is the deep knowing of your own presence. Yes, it sounds woo-woo, I know. But I am woo-woo, and I embrace it.
For me, meditation and pranayama have been essential practices in cultivating this inner home. Sitting quietly, following the breath, feeling the subtle rhythms of energy within—these daily rituals anchor me in the present, reconnecting me with myself when the world feels shifting or chaotic. They are a reminder that home is not a place we must find—it is a presence we can inhabit at any moment.
I have discovered that home is less about stability and more about presence: the capacity to be fully oneself, wherever one is planted.
Life in Cycles
This year, I have found it difficult to look back on the past twelve months—not because I did not accomplish what I set out to do, but because I have begun thinking in cycles rather than years. Some years carry monumental events—weddings, children, big moves, a loss—that shape our lives more profoundly than any calendar can measure. And some years, the passage of time is quiet, subtle, almost invisible, yet transformative.
2025 felt like the close of a chapter, a nine-year in numerology, a year of completing a big cycle. And 2026, a ten-year, feels like the opening of a new season—a fresh level, as if life itself were a long-form story, each cycle a new season with its own rhythm and lessons. In Katonah Yoga Numerology, passing through room nine completes the magic square, and with ten, the circle wraps—allowing us to begin again in a higher dimension. Fittingly, in Tarot, ten corresponds to the Wheel of Fortune, the card of the year. The Wheel can turn toward fortune or misfortune; yet if we remain anchored within, we can weather the spin of its ever-flippant cycles.
Building Home from Scratch
Looking back on the past four years, my own journey has been one of repeated beginnings. Leaving Zurich, clossing my studio, rebuilding a home, forging new friendships, establishing a new rhythm of life—these experiences were shaped by a desire to live in alignment with nature’s cycles, to honor freedom and flow rather than constant achievement. The culture I grew up in celebrated productivity and accomplishment, but I longed for something different: a life attuned to the ebb and flow of the moon, the seasons, the quiet rhythms of the earth.
Starting over is humbling. It can be exhilarating, but also bring insecurties. Rebuilding means gathering fragments from the past and shaping them anew, informed by the wisdom of experience yet open to the unknown. And in this process, I have discovered that home is less about stability and more about presence: the capacity to be fully oneself, wherever one is planted.
Coming Home Within
Coming home is not about a specific place, a person, or a possession. It is a journey inward, a surrender to the self that quietly holds and understands us. It is the recognition that, no matter where we are, we are already home.
And perhaps this is the most profound home of all: the one we carry within, eternal, unmovable, ours to inhabit in every moment. Meditation and pranayama are the daily doors into this home—practices that remind us that belonging begins inside.
Join me in meditation and pranayama to find home within yourself, wherever you are? Book a class.
