In my 16 years of living in New York City, I have lived in 16 different places. The shortest residence was for 2 weeks. The longest stay was for 5 years. I have crashed on my teacher’s studio floor for a month. I have taken luxuriant refuge in a high-rise condominium overlooking Central Park.

Being a Taurus, this all seems rather remarkable. An earth-bound creature, one would think I would settle in and stay. And, in fact, looking back I have almost always moved because I was forced to: an end of a lease, a roommate pushes me out (way back when, folks), bed bugs (ugh!), a relationship ends (phew!), etc.

What has been steady and constant in my life all this time is the city and my work. For a long time this was enough. People speak of the paradox of being lonely in the city while surrounded by millions of people. However I have found the density and energy of the city acts as a greater surrounding body that supports my adventuring within it.

Back when I was a dancer and waitress, then dancer/waitress/teacher, I spent little time at home. My homes were at studios where I took classes (heartfelt thanks to Moving Body Resources), the restaurants where I was working (kudos Edward's!) and the studios where I taught (many thanks Movement & Beyond). Since my injury more than three years ago, dance classes and serving food have been left to the wayside.  I have dropped into a deep healing process that continues today. It is now time for to find a home for rest, regeneration and joy.

Can this be found on Craigslist? Or for that matter in New York City?

Do I have to follow the dictates of New York’s real estate market, or can something be born to answer my heart’s desire?

I have made lists of qualities I want for my future home; I have trolled Craigslist and StreetEasy; I have spoken with friends; I have contacted a broker or two; I have imagined over and over about what kind of home will feed me to my heart’s content.

I am writing this now in a pied-à-terre on loan for a week. Sunlight is pouring in. It’s peaceful. There’s a wooden floor for me to lie on. It gives me hope that what on practical terms might seem impossible is possible.

If I dive deeper into my heart, will I step into a new home meant for me?

Or will the universe pick up on my blog post?



Wooden floor


Kitchen made for cooking

Good neighbors




Thank you.

This was originally posted August 10th, 2011. 

Authormegan brians