coming home is like seeing it for the first time


Home is the pristine instinctual life that works as easily as a joint sliding upon its greased bearing, where all is as it should be, where all the noises sound right, and the light is good, and the smells make us feel calm rather than alarmed. How one spends one’s time in the return is not important. Whatever revivifies balance is what is essential. This is home. There is not only time to contemplate, but also to learn, and uncover the forgotten, the disused, and the buried. There we can imagine the future and also pour over the scar maps of the psyche, learning what led to what, and where we will go next. What is homing? It is the instinct to return, to go to the place we remember. It is the ability to find, whether in dark or in daylight, one’s home place. Home is where a thought or a feeling can be sustained instead of being interrupted or torn away from us because something else is demanding our time and attention. The events of our daily lives, our past traumas and joys, our fears and hopes for the future, are all passed hand over hand down to the soul, who makes comments on them in our nightdreams, emanates its feelings upward through our bodies, or pierces us with a moment of inspiration with an idea on the end of it. This midway point between the worlds of reason and image, between feeling and thinking, between matter and spirit- between opposites and all shades of meaning one can imagine- is home…..Clarissa Pinkola Estes

a bit of serendipitous magic can be found in our cave….that in-between moon and dusk time….where the layered shades of white unfold into crisp nuances of snow and marshmallow and dove….seething disappointments and cold rain fall away…..we wonder how we could have lost our way….home is the inner well….

All I can go with is my personal truth, my integrity, and my intuition. I try to tap everyday into that higher voice that I hear and trust. That is more than enough. I feel good when coming from that place. If I don’t come from that place, I get lost in the darkness and the despair. You cannot know what the outcome is supposed to be. We cannot be goal-oriented. We have to believe that if we do the very best that we can, and practice harmony with each other and with the Earth, that something larger will be served, though we may not see it….we may not see it…….Cielo Myczack

going off to a little corner to rekindle our secret places

At my place, I’ve begun to have little recognitions of things that have been there all along but I haven’t noticed them before. They come clear in a different way then they do when you simply go out and study them. There’s a big, old live oak down in one end of the meadow I have walked by hundreds of times. I knew what it was- an interior live oak. I’ve crawled under it on several occasions. It was no mystery to me. But one day, I stopped and took a look at it, and I really saw it. In a sense, it showed itself to me. No woo-woo about it. It wasn’t anything particularly magical or anything, it’s just that I really saw it. It’s a gift; it’s like there’s a moment in which the thing is ready to let you see it. In India, this is called ‘darshan.’ Darshan means getting a view, and if the clouds blow away, as they did once for me, and you get a view of the Himalayas from the foothills, an Indian person would say, ‘Ah, the Himalayas are giving you their darshan;’ they’re letting you have their view. This comfortable, really deep way of getting a sense of something takes time. It’s more important to be aware of the suchness of things. It’s also a source of a certain kind of creativity. It’s reality……Gary Snyder

7 thoughts on “coming home is like seeing it for the first time

    • It’s so interesting to think about the concept of ‘homesickness’ isn’t it? Yes, immediately the idea of home is wrought with conflicting emotions……May the home in your heart be ‘home sweet home’……

  1. This reminds me of those pictures that were quite popular years ago. You know, those with a picture hidden within another one. You could spend days in front of them, trying to see something, and the harder you tried, the more elusive the view. Until one day when your sight relaxed (between breaths), and THERE it was, just as it had always been. And afterwards, regardless your rush by, you couldn’t see the picture without seeing the ‘other’ there – the hidden door with your name just above. I love that place. Thank you for your sweet thoughtful reminders to live. ~ Love you, Me

    • this art of listening to the heart helps us to ‘see’ when we need….like a macro lens of the heart…..freely given, a paradox like the elusive view…..’and there it was, just as it had always been’…..thank you for such cogent details….may you nestle down in the inner well….blessings to you….

  2. love the post!!
    coming home is like seeing it for the first time…but the memories have lived through all time…it’s the place that’s always been there – all one had to do was open one’s eye – the inner eye, ‘coz home is the within…

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