I am home.

I spent the weekend at a beautiful retreat center, a sacred place that calls to me. A friend said, “The veil is thin here.” I was walking alone through the grounds as the fog was lifting and the mountains were beginning to be visible and I thought, “I feel vulnerable.” It was a quiet voice but it got my attention. Yes, I thought, I feel vulnerable. I spent the next two hours, walking the grounds, finding hidden places to sit amongst sweet gardens, just repeating this to myself. I feel vulnerable. I feel vulnerable. In the supportive quiet of the cool sweet air, I just rested in this feeling. There was nothing to solve about it. I didn’t need to move away from it. It was actually an invitation into an aspect of me I had been avoiding and I felt relief and a sense of coming home. 

Sacred, quiet spaces do this to me. As soon as my soul suspects I have suspended the doing, these moments, insights, healings sneak in. It’s a reunion of me with me. My inner knowing is patient with me. It’s kind and subtle and loving. No matter how much I am determined to find this ground outside of me, I am always led back to my own capacity to know, see, hold, witness, forgive, and love. I am who I have been looking for. In this knowing, I am whole, I am home.