There’s a line in the coming-of-age indie-flick, Garden State, when Zach Braff’s character says, “You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn’t really your home anymore? All of a sudden, even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone…You feel like you can never get it back. It’s like you feel homesick for a place that doesn’t even exist.” That brings me to this week’s advice:

 

DO: Be Grateful.

 

DOO-DOO: Be Homeless.

 

I’m not sure if it was a life-imitates-art-imitates-life sort of thing, but my first two years of college were pervaded by a strange sense of not homesickness, but homelessness and restlessness. Stanford was my new life, but I wasn’t about to call it home. And when I would return home for breaks, home just felt like a house where I kept the things from my past life. It was like my life was placed on pause, nothing I did at home would contribute to “the bigger picture;” there were no feelings of consequence or progress.

 

This led to a great deal of restlessness and discontent. When I was at Stanford, I just wanted to be in Orange County, and when I was there, I wanted to be anywhere but there. I was stuck living in the past bliss of nostalgia or the future hope of a place to call “home.”

 

Over the last two years, my concept of “home” has drastically changed — and it’s allowed me to be truly happy where I’m at in the present. The sense of security and belonging we call home isn’t a place we find or discover or reach in the distant future, it’s a feeling we create here and now, where we are with the people around us. Thanksgiving break was the perfect reminder for me. There are times when we all feel lonely and lost in the world, and I’ve found that the best remedy is gratitude — true appreciation for the people that have shaped our lives. It may help to sit down and remind yourself where you belong and what you call home.

 

For me, home is Clint having the Deathly Hollows tattooed on his calf forever, and Lauren knowing “I’ll be at your house in 15,” means “I’ll be at your house in an hour.” It’s David still saying “Yo Yo Yo!” upon entering every room, and Colton still insisting that his virtual girlfriend exists (well then, how come we’ve never met her?). Home is how it somehow makes sense that Matt got disqualified from a pancake-eating contest…for eating too many pancakes.

 

Home is the way Brett still has an unshakable faith in the 18-year-old Green Van, and the way Hilary cares less about the Cal-Stanford rivalry than even I do. It’s how Greg had the hardest year of his life and still strengthens the people around him. And how Nick and I spent the winter writing songs about getting better (and if we’re being honest, we’re getting there.) It’s Doug having the dumb idea of biking to Berkeley from LA for no reason at all, and Sunny having the geniusidea of secretly following him to film how far he actually goes (he’ll probably make it.)

 

Home is Landon performing the sickest cover of “Skinny Love” I have ever seen (in the deepest v-neck I have ever seen). It’s Jill knowing some things never do change. It’s how Coleman used to get teased for being straight-edge and now gets teased for not being straight-edge, and how Michael still won’t let me ride his horse (this is a 100-percent literal statement and should not be taken figuratively in any way.) It’s how Garrett will go down in history as the funniest, nicest and most agreeable person ever (a narrow finish over Will, who used to be Bill in high school), and how Clark knows more about more things than you do (but seriously, he does.)

 

Home is how Arya knows anything I write here wouldn’t do him justice, and that Carson still is…and will forever be…Carson. It’s how Hayden is going to be super famous some day, and it won’t change a thing. It’s how we’re all counting down the days until Ian, Sam, Taylor, Lauren and Sarah come back to us in America (aka Amurrricccaaaaa!)

 

No doubt, home is something different for each of you. But there’s a strange confidence and joy in life when you remember you always have a home to return to, no matter where you go. And better yet, you can create one right where you are.

 

If you’re really stuck in trying to find a new home, Chase’s bed might be a great place to start. Email him at ninjaish “at” stanford “dot” edu for directions.