I’m continuing on this journey homeward, and so it continues to come out in my writing. The term “coming home to yourself” – I’m shaking it out like a piece of balled up clothing to see what falls out with the wrinkles – what ideas, images and emotions fall onto the page.
It’s a term that’s been jangling around
My working theory (in the realm of intuition) is that that which we need rises high in the collective unconscious and comes close to the surface and more easily accessible. And we are in need of people who have come home to themselves.
We live in an age of sensory overload and inundation, where all attention is focused outwardly, jumping from one thing to the next. Many of us are not particularly comfortable with solitude, silence or an inward focus. We are detached – because we view the world and others through our computer screens more than we do through personal interaction. We are distracted – by those same computer screens, by the constant ability to access other people and information via technology. We are disappointed – because the airbrushed world portrayed on-line does not match our own experience, and we feel inadequate and unworthy.
I’m generalizing. But there is an amount of truth to what I’ve described, and it is a bleak picture. We desperately need to connect to ourselves, to open our hearts with compassion and love for the person in the mirror. It is only then, that we truly will be able to shine that compassion and love out into the world. And that is what the journey homeward is about.
There is a lovely poem called Love After Love by Derek Walcott that describes this homecoming. It begins, “The time will come/when, with elation,/you will greet yourself arriving/at your own door…” It captures with simplicity the authentic joy of welcoming one’s self.
More often than not, we have some work to do to get to the point where we can simply embrace ourselves, shadows and all. We must learn to let go of judgment and ease off on our expectations. It is an on-going practice of learning to be okay with imperfection, with regret, with hunger, with darkness and the unknown.
That is a tall order, as far as I am concerned. But I know it starts with simply being with myself. I hear the wise words of Pema Chödrön reminding me, “Start where you are.” I hear the lyrical voice of David Whyte, urging me to “Start close in…Start with the ground you know…”
And so I have started my journey homeward. There is a lot I do not yet know, but I know the ground beneath my feet and it is a good place to start.