These words seem to give a context to and explanation for my entire existence. Something happens inside me every time I read them; a homecoming.

{Also I’m learning how to do graphics so get ready to see more of this kind of sophisticated technological wizardry.}

I’m thinking a lot about coming home lately. By which I mean coming home inside, to myself, to the Truth. It sounds kind of sweeping and grand, and oh look at me and how spiritual I am {ugh} but it’s really such a simple thing. Simple but not necessarily easy.

Four months into my long retreat, I no longer know, with my limited participation in the ‘outside world’, how my new internally discovered perspectives and truths might be perceived.

Like the fact that I can connect deeply with someone I care about without actually seeing or speaking to them. Or that I have found silence and aloneness infinitely preferable to company as a way to live. Sometimes it’s been so long since I spoke that when I do my voice is raspy.

I wonder if people will think I’m living in an ivory tower where nothing difficult ever happens because I don’t engage in ‘real life’ or keep up with current events. That I’m somehow irresponsible and self-absorbed. {Which as we know are both Heinous Crimes.}

You wouldn’t believe the amount of conversations I’ve had in my head with my ego disguised as some nebulous and sceptical character who challenges everything I do, believe in and think about. {Or perhaps you would.}

These imaginary dialogues are a way of working out what’s so fundamentally true to me that a challenge wouldn’t shake me or make me forget; something that used to happen frequently. A way I establish home in myself.

It worried me at first how much I don’t need to see or speak to people. But as time passes and I keep following this path from head to heart {the shortest and longest of my life}, the less it seems important.

It’s not that I no longer care about people; quite the opposite in fact. I am learning what elements for me are important ~ essential in fact ~ in a meaningful, fulfilled, connected, joyful life. Some of it is surprising, possibly controversial.

Connection is essential. Casual chat is not.

Loving honesty is essential. Pretending to be ok with something when I’m not is not. {Which annoyingly doesn’t mean I find it easy.}

Silence and white space is essential. A social life is not.

Creating is essential. Hanging out is not.

Experiencing how something feels is essential. Basing anything on how something looks is not.

Daily practices are essential. Routine is not.

Listening to my own drum is essential. Explaining its beats or being distracted by others’ is not.

Noticing and gratitude are essential. Filtering everything through my logical left brain is not.

Knowing and honouring my values is essential. Modifying behaviour to help people be comfortable is not. {My hardest one.}

Presence is essential. Planning and thinking ahead are not.

Service is essential. Doing anything to make or keep someone else happy is not.

What is essential is invisible to the eye.

~The Little Prince

I saw somewhere the other day a piece of art bearing that sentiment between lovers that ‘home is wherever you are’. The implication that ‘home is where the heart is… and mine’s with you’ seems dangerous to me now. As much as I love romance, for me it is truer to say and more necessary to know that home is wherever I am. When I am in the fullness of what that means I feel expansive and strong and free, and very loving. After all, if home is where you are, and you leave, I’m homeless.

And, perhaps most importantly, when I’m really standing in the centre of that, I am of greater service ~ in love, in friendship, in connection, in inspiration, in support ~ than I ever was when I was trying to be all things to all people and home was just the place I lived in. Sometimes it doesn’t look like it because my choices might disappoint or anger, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t it.

I still have a long way to go. I am not ready to go back ‘out there’. But it’s coming. Spending time getting to know my Self, coming home to who I really am beyond conditioned self, is beginning to take shape. As is how it will look and feel when I fully embody it. Some days it feels a painfully slow and belaboured process; I practice remembering the truth of divine timing.

The roots and wings I’m growing on my own will ultimately accompany me back out into the world as a much more honest, compassionate, and real person than I was before. I will be home, and that will make all the difference.

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