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Belonging & Coming Home


Throughout my adult life and even before, I have been motivated by a deep seeking for a place, 'the' place where I would feel a sense of belonging. Mostly, I haven't been aware that this seeking had to do with belonging, but over the years it became clearer to me that this life has been greatly fueled by the dream that out there somewhere is a place where I long to be, to settle and call home. More recently, this seeking brought me to India, a place I have lived before, a place that in many ways unravels and brings to light the unseen motivations, expectations and desires that often fuel our directions in life. I didn't exactly expect that the plans in place would unfold accordingly, why would they as they never usually do. But what did surprise me was the wellspring of hope that sat just out of sight. The hope that this trip would somehow be 'that' place. A hope that revealed itself only as all plans dissolved around me and I found myself directionless and left with a feeling of great despair. One could say 'the rug was pulled out from beneath my feet', and the thought that seemed to have the power to bring me to my knees and face to face with my Self was 'I don't belong anywhere' and then, 'I have no-where to go'. It is clear to me now as I write, that I have been avoiding this truth all my life. Looking back as a young child I was often told I was 'greedy' (I was) or that I 'wanted too much' (I did). Nothing seemed to satisfy this insatiable desire for something that I simply could not name. Inside lived an empty void that I would attempt to fill with all manner of things with the bitter gift of dissatisfaction time and time again. How I have related throughout time to this inner felt experience of longing (wanting/needing) has shifted only in ways which I have attempted to alleviate the inevitable suffering that comes with not wanting to acknowledge its presence. Somehow there always seemed to be that dangling carrot just out of reach, nourished by the thoughts that one day I would arrive and all would be well. However, willing, sooner or later, life does bring you to the threshold of your Self to meet once and for all the darkness that awaits in the heart of longing. A longing that once turned inward, towards itself meets the fire of false longing and is transformed into a kind of devotion to that which is invisible, yet implicitly known. It seems crazy that life would need to bring me all the way across the Indian Ocean to teach me that what I have been seeking has been with me all along and the insatiable longing for home is nowhere but here in the unaltered, unconditioned present. I could have said this before, I felt it intuitively; but now I know it. Suffice to say, nothing has changed, circumstances are unfolding as they will and there remains a lack of clarity regarding the future. Life is in flux, like when patterns change in to new ones, they first break up, become incoherent before something new emerges. There is a long awaited pause, the river slows down but it's still moving, imperceptibly, just like labor. Orientation to life turns inward first and foremost, aligned with the pulse of being. Not guided by thoughts but by the insatiable longing that knows itself as the deep peace of presence and the quiet breath of stillness, through which the voice of Love is heard and beckons home where I belong.


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