Musings on my transformations from one version of me to another. There are many chapters in My Story, some that I want, and try, to quickly finish and others that I want to hold on to forever. There are even some chapters that refuse to let go of me. But as each chapter comes to a close, and I turn the page, I find my soul reshaped, remolded. My Story is the evolution of me as a daughter, wife, sister, friend and a mother. The evolution of a woman.
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Friday, May 23, 2014
The Journey Towards Home
The journey towards Home can sometimes stray off the well manicured, linear, wide path onto more of a rugged trail. It is during these rocky and rough times that my body and soul search for fortitude and brace for impact. I have to resist all instincts to turn around and retreat. I have to keep walking forward. My body instinctively counterbalances itself and my bones become rugged. My muscles become more nimble. My senses acuminate. My heart bleeds and my hands grow calloused.
These deer trails sometimes sneak up on me unexpectedly. Other times however I have previewed the map and knowingly walk out bravely onto the unpolished terrain.
Each one of these narrow twisting trails have marked me. I have grown accustomed to berry bush thorns, poison ivy, a dapple of sunlight, loose rocks, hidden streams, bears, baby bunnies, tree roots and blisters dancing over, through and past my body. As the rugged trail weaves its way back to my more manicured boardwalk I feel weathered, wrinkled and exposed.
Before stepping out onto the wide path again I remember the hardiness of the trail; the adventurous, spontaneous and lost nature of the trail and I hear myself congratulating herself for finding the wide path once again. These emotions become crisp as toast as I feel myself moving closer towards Home. I bottle this emotion and save it within my heart so that the next time, when my instincts are yelling at me to turn around, when the path veers off into rugged terrain, I will keep moving forward -- always towards Home.
This Home can allude many of us at certain times and we can forget which way the trail should be cut. Our rocky deer trails sometimes veer off onto sideways benders with no hope for rectitude. Even when your Home has been etched onto your soul sometimes it can morph into a wasteland of obscure shadows. There is no guarantee that we will all keep moving closer, towards Home.
Make sure you remembered to leave the lights on in your Home so that as you draw near you may always recognize it and not pass it by.
Decorate your Home with items that you love so that you will naturally gravitate towards it in times of confusion.
Carry a piece of your Home with you at all times. In the case that your heart is bleeding, this piece can be fashioned as a temporary Band-Aid.
Never lose your keys.
And during every moment of your brutish, nasty, rugged overgrown adventure continually remind yourself to keep moving. Never sit down.
I have stepped off my well manicured path. I have ventured down the rugged trail many times. I haven't yet found the wide lawn leading me up to my Home but I am continuing forward. Each moment brings me closer. I refuse to sit, my fingers linger over the keys in my pocket. I carry a piece of my Home in my heart and I have decorated my Home with items that I truly love. The lights are on. I think I can see it in the distance. I'll keep moving with the knowledge that every step takes me closer to my Home.
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Once again you've created a beautiful statement and description of your journey. We have a string of different houses, but how many homes do we have? Do we ever really leave our true home? Love your writing! Dad
ReplyDeleteThank you, Dad for all your encouragement!
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