Coming home to me

You can feel it.

A constant yearning.

You think it’s a thing you pine for.

So you set out to find that thing.

And you look.

And you gaze.

And you find one of that thing.

And you try it out.

And you pause after a little while.

And you think “Hmmm. Nope. That ain’t it.”

And you set out again, to find another thing….because, recall, you thought a ‘thing’ is what you yearn for.

And you  find another thing.

And you try out…this new thing.

And it works for a little while.

In fact, there’s a bitta honey moon over the freshness and newness of this thing.

And yet…pretty soon, the honeymoon wears off.

And the yearning still pulls.

And you listen.

And resolve to look again for another thing since this latest one no longer satisfies.

And you seek another thing.

And another.

And another.

Flash forward a few years, you have a lot of things to prove  you’ve braved and tried.

But.

There’s still an ache...

And so, you think.

And you resolve, “Ahh, I know what’s ‘wrong’…I must own the thing!”

Yes. Yes. I’m sure of this.

Up til now, I’ve only borrowed the thing.

And so you set out to do just that: find a thing and own it.

And now? It becomes more difficult because, now, you have to navigate how to find things that are for actual sale. (not borrowed)

And you wrestle with commitment because you’re used to borrowing.

Borrowing means not for keeps.

Borrowing means you can toss back when you’re finished using.

Borrowing is safe because it can’t be snatched out from under you.

Borrowing is also safe because it’s not yours…yours to care for…yours to watch out for….yours to nurture and ya know, act responsibly about.

Yeppers.

Borrowing is the next best thing to free.

Sorta.

And yet.

It’s not.

Because?

There’s no guarantees with borrowing….using something on loan….

…whether that something is a role you thought you were supposed to play.

…whether that something is a relationship you wanted to try out.

…whether that something is a city you decided to experiment with.

…whether that something is an apartment (or 30) you chose to rent.

And the ache continues.

And you listen.

And wonder why.

Because you’re trying so hard.

To do life right.

But the empties are there.

Constantly.

And the refuse-to-commit-therefore -don’t have to worry about-making a mistake’ mindset is warn out.

And the don’t-know-how-to-commit-from-borrowing-to-owning-because-there’s-so much-you-can’t-control mindset? Yeah, you’re sicka that excuse too.

Because you wake up one day and realize something:

You realize there’s one thing you’ve

never borrowed,

never been prone to lose,

never at risk for messing it up indefinitely,

never liable to have it snatched from you or taken away.

Yes, this thing is something that you’ve always and ever committed to and thus owned, even though it doesn’t always feel like it.

And you can hardly write the statement that affirms what this ‘thing’ is….so you know you must.

And that is this:

your heart

…pause.

…breathe.

…dry the tears.

…breathe again.

You realize something.

The ache?

It’s a whisper that says “come here. be with me. stay close. hug me. tend to me. stop looking out there for the thing you think is gonna feed me. I. need. you.”

Whoa.

And you can hardly believe it.

Because its the most home you’ve felt in years.

This thing?

Our hearts?

The willingness to listen to them and respond to them? and tend to them? and garden there, and nurture there, and grow there, and cuddle & cozy up there, and dwell there and OWN there?

This aha?

PRICELESS….

…unspeakable peace, really.

And in this preciously gentle wake up reminder….

You find a deep long sigh of a pause.

a kinda ‘but of course’

sorta like skinny dipping….so much more like feeling a perpetual inner peace….and knowing.

And the battle that’s waged for sooooo long begins to hush.

And the inner turmoil and constant asking “Am. I. Doing. Life. Right?” ceases to blare.

And the perpetual looking for approval from ought that really can’t give it lets go such a stronghold.

And you breathe.

And you feel.

And you know.

And you breathe again.

And you just know…..I am home.

 

I was inspired to write this post after reading about a writer’s retreat offered at the end of this month in Somerville. Thank YOU @jenlouden etc…just the invite nudged this post 🙂