Home. When we are home, we feel safe. When we are home, we feel connected. When we are home, we can curl up, get quiet and DO nothing, and simply BE.
Where is your home?
Is your home your little apartment? Your fancy house? Your teepee? Your car? Your meditation cushion?
Whatever you call your “home”, go one step further. Your home is the end of your journey back to you. Your home is the experience of being inside your own skin. Your true home welcomes you back to experiencing what Life feels like on the inside. Coming back home feels like your attention falls inward, sweeter and even sweeter towards your heart, where you can silence your mind and listen intently, with reverence, to the quiet whispers of your Soul’s desires.
This is home.
When you arrive home, you know. Your body flutters with a little acknowledgment when you first walk through the door. Sometimes it feels like tingling in the skin, a little ripple, a little dance… something… anything to let you know, hey, I remember you. Welcome home.
When we can come home to ourselves, we can create magic. When we can feel connected to who we are, who we TRULY are, we can slowly remove the masks, the facades, and release the should’s and the could’s. When we are connected, we are strong, unshakeable, and yet so so soft. When we are connected to ourselves, our home, our Self, we can wholeheartedly connect with others. And I mean truly connect… Heart to Heart, Soul to Soul.
More and more, I’m making space to come home to me. When I’m drifting away, I know. I get anxious, I get dull. But I get to close my eyes at any moment I choose and breathe. Breathe to make a connection back to me. Breathe so I can feel once again what it’s like to be back in my own skin, breathe so I can reconnect to this vast sense of spaciousness on the inside, then reflected on the outside. Everything slows down. I can feel, I am awake, I am aligned, I can see. And then… onward.
I spent most of my 20’s and the first couple years of my 30’s judging, comparing, getting lost in misery – wanting to become, rather than BE, and in trying to become, only rippled out further and further from who I was deep deep down inside. 32. That was the magical year. 32 was the start, the beginning, the invocation of transcending habits and demons and structure that no longer served me. I am four years in now, four years from the beginning of that huge growth spurt, and I’m still mining, still uprooting, still excavating. Sometimes I feel I’ve barely scratched the surface, and sometimes my wiser Self chimes in and reminds me to give myself the credit I deserve for staying with it. Wholeheartedly. I feel so unbelievably grateful for these lessons that I’ve been given, to practice gratitude and forgiveness. Over and over. These two, oh, these two gems will change your life. Get to know them. Deeply.
When I find myself teetering between choosing myself and choosing fear or illusion, I sit. I close my eyes and I breathe. I meditate. My mediation practice helps me to come home to me, to come home to the Now, to create space so I can see clearer… and it teaches me to come home to my heart.
Come home. Come home. Come home to you.
Welcome yourself in warmly, graciously, and give yourself a hug. Forgive yourself. Practice this art as if you are drawing into your embrace a beloved old friend who just trudged back onto your doorstep, tired, after journeying through barren distant lands. Except it’s not your old friend. It’s YOU. You are Home.