The Art of Staying at Home

When I sat my first meditation retreat (over 20 years ago now), there were moments where I didn’t think could make it.

It was a weekend retreat—Friday through Sunday—48 hours of no talking, reading, or writing plus a lot of meditation.  We couldn’t leave the retreat center, and I felt like I’d been locked into an echo chamber with my own thoughts repeating in an endless loop. I wrote letters and rehearsed conversations countless times, and then couldn’t stop doing it even when I grew tired of it. 

It takes practice to learn how to be with one’s own mind without driving yourself nuts! But even a little skill in this domain can bring tremendous freedom—especially these days, when most of us have been stuck indoors, feeling confined, alone or with our families.

Over these past couple of months, I’ve been reflecting a lot on what it means to stay home, and how to find some space inside when the options for going outside are limited.


voluntary simplicity

One of the core values on the contemplative path is simplicity—letting go of things that aren’t important, and developing the wisdom to differentiate what’s important from what’s extra.

The act of meditating itself is a kind of temporary, voluntary simplicity. We put aside all other activities—the news, the kids, the to-do list, entertainment and other distractions—to settle the mind and strengthen certain mental qualities.

As we practice, we begin to see that letting go of external activity is actually the easy part. It takes only a few seconds to tell your family that you’re going to meditate, put your phone on silent, sit down and close your eyes. What’s more challenging is the process of letting go of the internal activity.

It takes time, patience, and skill to disengage our attention from the incessant thoughts and impulses of the mind. “Don’t forget to call so-and-so… Why did she say that…? I can’t stand how vague he is sometimes!”

Our True Home

The mind’s tendency is to get caught up in the content of experience—our thoughts and feelings inside, or the many sights and sounds we experience outside. When we do this, our attention rushes out to whatever sensation, thought, or experience is most compelling and intense in that moment. We rush out through our eyes, our ears, even with our thoughts. We lurch into the future, or reach back towards the past.

And every time we rush out, we overlook something more fundamental—our real home right here and now.

Meditation practice is about discovering our true home, right here in this body and mind, and learning how to “stay at home.” Home is not just a physical place. Home is also a mental and emotional space where we feel at ease, where we don’t have to put on any airs, where we can relax and just be. 

It is wisdom that is seeking for wisdom.
— Shunryu Suzuki Roshi

The insight of all contemplative practice is that home is always right here. It always has been and always will be. The problem is that the untrained mind keeps LEAVING. We keep leaving home in search of something else that will fulfill us, forgetting all the while that we seek is always right here—within.

Zen teacher Shunryu Suzuki Roshi once said, “It is wisdom that is seeking for wisdom.” We may take up meditation practice for a whole range of different reasons. Yet for many, there can be a feeling inside, a still small voice (as it’s sometimes called), that yearns for something deeper, something better in life. It’s as if we know there is something more fulfilling for us here in life but we just can’t find it.

I remember that feeling on that first meditation retreat, so many years ago. It felt like I was on my knees in a dark room, searching for something. But I couldn’t even remember what I was looking for, let alone where to find it.

Stop Seeking

What I’ve learned over the years is that the search is often necessary, and that it leads us right back here to the present moment. It’s not that the meaning and fulfillment many of us seek in life is so esoteric and mystical that it’s unattainable. It’s that it’s so ordinary and subtle we keep missing it.

Stop for a few moments. Don’t try to DO anything.

Right now, are you aware? Can you feel your senses connected to the world? In this moment, if you slow down and put everything down—worrying, doubting, searching, the past, the future, your life, all of it—is anything missing?

There is a space of wakeful, balanced awareness, that is available in each moment. This space of awareness is a kind of refuge, and it’s not about avoiding unpleasant things or making difficult emotions go away. It’s a home that’s spacious enough to include all of that. It’s a soft strength that patient, kind, and wide enough to include anything and everything. 

With shelter-in-place orders lifting soon for many here in the United States, you may be leaving your physical home a lot more regularly. As you do, I invite you to notice the tendency for your mind to rush out and seek something to feel satisfied. 

Wherever you are, can you return your attention to this present moment? What would it be like to learn to cultivate a sense of being at home right where you are, right here and now?


This post was originally recorded as a talk for the Ten Percent Happier App.