It is always easier to look back and realize what was going on, as opposed to figuring something out in the middle of it.
2012 was a tough year. My most fervent prayer was that 2013 would see all the muck left behind. Sadly, the mere change of the calendar changed nothing, and spring ended up being just as tough, and my reserves (mental, emotional) were gone. I feel a tiredness that goes bone deep.
I had a chat with a friend yesterday that caused a bit of sober thinking. It wasn't that everything he said was new, just maybe something in the way he said it penetrated all the distractions swirling around my head... or maybe I was finally ready to really hear it.
I was complaining about not losing any more weight in spite of how much I exercise and count calories, etc. He asked me what my goals are, not just physically, but spiritually and emotionally. I couldn't articulate it at the time, so said a few peripheral things, like wanting to write more and be more creative, dance more, etc., but none of that was the core truth.
At the core of all the angst, I really want to know that I belong somewhere. I want to find my "home" with all its connotations of safety, acceptance, love, healing, peace, rest, forgiveness.
I've been a bit of gypsy all my life seeking some place or person I could just call "home." I still haven't found that.
When I was 28 and left the Daughters of Charity where I had tried out pre-postulancy, they prayed over me. I remember part of it was Jer 29:11, which I have since adopted as my own personal hope I hang my entire spirituality on. At the heart of that entire letter to exiles is the promise of home.
One part of the prayer one sister prayed over me has resonated for the last 15 years: "May you find strength for this journey in the Source whose Heart is your home."
A few years ago, I wrote a poem called, "The Way" about that idea of being called out of exile... here's a little bit of it:
...
I call your name from your own desert sands
away from the darkness, across wild lands.
We have a home. I've been waiting for you
where the Light kisses Life and the whole world is new.
...
In the midst of all this mental and emotional and even physical exhaustion, I find it very hard to remember that my home has nothing to do with a geographical location. The light I am seeking isn't just a candle in a window. This Light is different and permanent and has everything to do with taking time to be in relationship with God -the Source whose Heart is my Home.
The Truth at the center of this is best summed up by the Indigo Girls: "The closer I'm bound in love to you, the closer I am to free..."
Looking at this struggle in a different Light, I'm better able to let go of these familiar fears about safety and control and loneliness and take a sober look at my own actions. In the different Light, my knee-jerk reactions to feel safe and in control seem not merely ineffective, but downright silly.
In this Light, where I am on a map is irrelevant -because I dwell in the house of the Lord.
Very nice! Growing up a military brat, I was raised believing "home is where you hang your hat." At the core, this mantra is true. Where you are is your home. Add to that the spiritual element, which you just highlighted, makes it even more relevant. However, I understand the need to find a place that feels right. We need both, but a place is just a physical existence. A home is where your heart and soul reside. Beautiful post! :)
ReplyDeleteThis really spoke to me, too, because, though hard to imagine, sometimes I still do not feel like I am home in this particular physical place. I try my best, but this was a good reminder that it goes far beyond the zip code :)
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