Coming Home Again

I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.
- Dr. Maya Angelou

I haven’t written a blog post in a while. It’s not because I haven’t wanted to. Lord knows, I’ve started about a million of them! Some of them are languishing on notes I’ve made to myself on paper napkins, some are stored away in files on my computer, and then there are the ones rolling around in my head...
 
The truth is, I’ve been a little disconnected lately. For the past few months, despite politics and the pandemic and the variety of stressors they bring to the table, things have been good. Wonderful things have been happening in my life, and I am immensely grateful for the deep connections, teachings, and experiences that are always coming my way.
 
But somewhere inside all of this joyful giving and receiving, some part of me just shut down. In my souped-up schedule of busy-ness, I didn’t seem to have the time to take time to reflect. My body went a little numb, and my brain went into that black and white thinking of ‘either you’re super-busy and successful, or you’ve got nothing to do and a failure – there is no in between.’ And in that shift, I lost sight of the balance that makes me who I am.
 
It’s that gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that whatever is happening, it’s not going to be enough to last. So I start looking for the other shoe to drop, at times even searching for a shoe and dropping it myself, to somehow control the pain of failure that I know is inevitable. Or I start grasping, gripping onto people, places, and things, as if they are life rafts in this sea of uncertainty. As if the solidness of their outsides could somehow anchor the waves rolling around inside me. I know myself enough now to know my patterns, and I see this reflected in the way I choose to eat, spend money, spend time, nurture myself, and rest.
 
But my real failure here is that I forgot to remember that there is no one thing that is going to sustain me all of the time. That the beauty of the Universe is that it is a constant cycle of creativity and rest, and that in every moment of the cycle, I have exactly what I need. That home is just a breath away, a simple shift back to my own internal compass.
 
So how do I bring myself back to balance? First and foremost, I get really clear that I’m not here to judge, criticize, or be harsh with myself. I quietly open the door to my heart and survey the landscape. I take small steps to reset my surroundings and the rest of my life. I get a bag of clothes or shoes together to donate. I clean the bathroom. I cook something nourishing and delicious. I make sure to get some movement in, whether it’s walking, dancing, or yoga-ing. I try to connect with myself in the moment, noticing what is working and what is not. And little by little, step by step, I find myself coming back to my center.
 
Little by little, step by step, I find myself coming home.