My childhood home. |
It’s a bittersweet thing, to have
the means and ability to travel on borrowed wings (and buses) to visit with
people I love. It’s bittersweet to fill up with deep moments of words and stillness,
of hugs and held hands, to have all of that and then to move on, leaving it
behind. It’s bittersweet because it aches as much as it heals.
I think about the history we have
on our ancestors, knowing that they lived in small groups in cities until
someone was the first to leave their family behind, and start over somewhere
new. And I know how it feels to move away and not have that support next door,
or across the city. How must it have been before the automobile? Before the
train, when five hundred miles meant a greater distance from one house to
another?
Life is a series of flights, of
migrations away from love while still moving towards it. We are always moving
forward in spiraling circles, and when the love runs deep, we find ourselves
returning to it to visit, even as we move away from it. Springs, coils, spirals. I am blessed to have left bits of my heart
in so many beautiful places.
I am on my way home, on a bus,
writing these words in a small notebook I carry with me. I was visiting home
and I am on my way home. People get confused when I use that word for my destinations.
When camping, I often call my cabin, tent or site home as well. Who does that? The
truth is, I am home in me. Home is me. Home is where I am and who I love. I am
on my way home and I am leaving home behind me, all at the same time.
When both things are true, when you
accept that both things are true, the deeper notion of truth opens up worlds in
your universe. I can be right without it
having to mean that you are wrong. I can remember that what is known was once
unknown and I can stare into the voids without fear, but with wonder and
curiosity.
Across this threshold, possibility
becomes hope and hope becomes the light I chase as it traverses the sky. Wherever
I am, wherever we are, whatever home I inhabit, I mark time by the rising and
setting of the sun. And yet, I know there is more to life than what I can see
in my daily experiences. I can’t see it, I don’t see it, but I know it.
The light I watch makes a full
revolution as the earth turns around the sun. Even when I can’t see it, I know
it is still there, on the other side of the darkness. On the other side of the
globe, someone else is watching that light when I am not. I don’t know them but
I know they’re there. They also call it hope.
What else don’t we know? What else,
and how much, lies beyond what we know?
“Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.”
~Yoda, Star Wars
V: The Empire Strikes Back
Our flesh is what’s known to us,
binding what we call spirit in the edges of our skin. We spend our lives
exploring them, discovering their purpose. And when we are satisfied with the
flesh, we wonder at all that lays beyond it.
We gaze at the stars and we dream
of their seemingly boundless space. And as our thoughts drift into the void, we
find their reflection pulling us deeper within ourselves to our center, our
original self… our origin story. There is so much life there, so much promise
lies within us. No matter how far we find ourselves from our path, we can
always touch it again and open the way.
“You don’t have a
soul. You are a soul. You have a body.”
~George MacDonald, Annals
of a Quiet Neighborhood
No matter how far we find ourselves
from our path, we are never far from ourselves. Both things are true. We are
the only home we will ever need. We carry it with us.
The earth rotates around the sun,
the light in the sky I call hope. Be your own sun and shine. Share your light.
Tell the people you love that they are your family. Breathe in. Let love be
your greatest legacy. Let kindness be the only calling card you need. Every
breath counts. Every choice matters. Every moment becomes part of your history.
What story will you write?
I always look forward to your posts though I don't always comment! This one comes at a time of family loss and strikes a cord, but then your words always do. Thank you for sharing them with us.
ReplyDeleteI really appreciate that! It really is one of those things where, our human experiences resonate deeply with each other's experiences, even though our personal experience often makes us feel as if we are alone on our own island. It's another place where both things are true. People know what we mean, and they don't know at all where we are (emotionally). I am glad my words offer something to others, and I greatly appreciate those who follow my work!
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