The Meaning of Home

Sometimes understanding the meaning of home is best understood by leaving it behind. Whether you leave your hometown for good, or just your hood, nothing puts things into perspective like getting away. A few weeks ago, I did just that. Having never been up the California coast after living in Los Angeles for over a decade, I decided the time had finally come.

I loaded up the kids and the dog and hit the road. The first night we drove from Los Angeles to San Luis Obispo and I swear, the sight of the traffic and the smog of city life in my rearview was all the motivation I needed to keep going through the glaring afternoon sun.

After a quick breakfast the next morning at the (in)famous Madonna Inn, ogling their renown pink champagne cake, and a quick trip to Bubblegum Alley in downtown SLO, our sights were set on retrieving my husband from a retreat I had sent him to a few days earlier in Big Sur.

I have heard. I have seen… though only in magazines. I have watched Same Time Next Year dozens of times. But nothing prepared me for the beauty this coast offered. It is World Class beauty. And whatever you need to do in your lifetime to get yourself there – just make it happen.

But, I digress.

As many of my loyal readers know, this blog is about craftsmanship and making connections – internally and to one another. And the connections I made on this trip were just that.

Firstly, the feeling of independence I felt coursing through my body once all manners of offspring were piled into the car was profound. We could go anywhere on that full tank of gas. Everything I needed was right there with me. Secondly, while we had definitely traveled as a family, this trip was spur-of-the-moment, on a whim.

Though I had formulated a loose plan which (as in design) allowed for on the spot modification, nothing quite compares to doing things by the seat of your pants. The confidence instilled in me as we spotted seals lolling in the sun on the beach, dined at Nepenthe and discovered the waterfall at Julia Pfeiffer State Beach felt as gratifying as that scene in Mission Impossible when Tom Cruise is suspended over the government’s computer transferring the coveted secret file. I did this. I brought our family to this spectacular place.