The Journey Home

The Journey Home

“You have to live your life according to your own light and you have to move wherever life leads, without any compromise.”
Osho

Darling, it has been such a long journey.

An epic quest. No such thing as stillness and complacency for you. There never has been, has there?

No. You’ve always been made for bigger things that that.

You know it’s true. You never were like the rest of them.

The ones whose peripheral vision never saw past the nearest horizon. The bloom where you’re planted, stay close to home, safety-first, keep the same friends and the same job and the same habits – forever and ever amen.

No, not you.

Your restless rose up early. Teased you every time you felt that far-away wind tangle through your hair.

You were always called elsewhere. A daydreamer. A wanderer. An explorer of worlds nobody else could see. Long before you could leave you learned the limitlessness of your own mind. No geographic boundaries or sensible borders for you. You were made to move.

You’ve always followed the pull of your wild heart. For you there is no other way.

Lost and found. Found and lost. Souls like you know that they are really just one and the same.

Over and under and around and through. Barefoot and dirty. Among strangers or in the center of the vast alone. Traversing foreign lands and barefoot dirt country roads or the farthest reaches of your brilliant mind.

You wild and beautiful gypsy soul. You’ve wandered and you’ve searched and you never stay still for long – no matter what the outside world has seen and believed.

You are a universe unto yourself. You know no borders, swirl through the liminal spaces, live on the edges and dance in the margins and croon under the moon. You have no fear of the wild – for the wild is your second home.

This is how you were born, this is the way you’ve known and named your own self.

Because you were made for that restless wind. You were made for the trail into the shadows and the pathway straight into the blinding light. You were made for the cavernous depths of night and sunrise over the mountain and the crash of ocean against shore.

You know how to pack light. The second nature knowing of moving on and beginning again. No, you’ve never shied away from that.

And you are being called now, just as you are always called – into motion, into the wild, into the wind.

Into the truth and into the grit and the light and the wide-open world.

But this is different. Not like all the other times.

Sometimes you can search for so long that you lose track of the one place that matters the most.

Home.

It is time to go home.

Home to the earth that named you. Home to the ground that flows with that which brought you to life. Home to the root, to the heat, to the core of it all.

Home to yourself.

This is not about home on the map. Not about where you were born or raised. Not about where anyone lives or where the good jobs are or where you’re expected to turn up eventually. Not about the lover who weaves words into the heat of desire. Not about ties that bind or anything that feels like obligation or giving up or giving in.

It’s not about staying or leaving or anything in between.

It may not even be about movement at all, not the way most people think of it.

No. This time, you are called home to yourself. You are called to integration. To the point of intersection. To completion. To the center of the paradox and the white heat of your own knowing. You are called to a claiming of place and space and intention and desire.

And even if you don’t yet know who or where or what that home is, you will be guided on your journey and you will know, with absolute clarity, when you arrive.

This is just the way of things.

So look around you now – at all you’ve collected on your many journeys. Take stock, give thanks. These are the things that have brought you to who you are, that have delivered you here – to the greatest journey of all.

Gather up the few things worth keeping; the ones that speak the memories of the love that gave you life, the talismans that brought you knowledge of your power. The magic bits, the crystals, the torn love notes you wrote to your own goddess self. Tuck in only the things which nourish your soul. The rest is no longer needed.

You don’t need much to hold the most precious of your belongings.

Tie all those bits in a pack over your back. Use the silk scarf that held your hair in the sea breeze that day when you sat in the sand at the edge of the world and the sun shone warm on your shoulders and you saw all the way to infinity.

That day. Do you remember that day? When you were all the way broken and all the way lost and then somehow you found yourself there? You had that silk scarf tied around your head and your old black converse were full of sand and your heart was in pieces and somehow you managed to save your own life. You found your way home that day. You will do it again.

You know what to do. You always have.

So heed the call. Set off on the path. Whistle that long slow whistle, the tune you’ve been hearing since birth – the one that always calls you home.

There will be choices to make along the way. It will not always feel safe or be easy. No – real journeys rarely do.

But the choices are all yours. This is the time of complete agency and ownership of self.

It always was, you see, you just were not ready to know it yet.

Here is one important truth.
Nothing is forbidden.

Someone taught me that once, and I read that line over and over the words became a steady drumbeat guiding me into my own life.

Do you hear me now – nothing is forbidden.

Stop right now and read those words aloud.

Now speak them again and again.

Nothing is forbidden.
Nothing is forbidden.
Nothing is forbidden.

Your life belongs to you. It always has, but it is so easy to forget. In the losing and the finding and the finding and the losing – sometimes we lose track of that one essential truth.

And in case you have, I will repeat it one more time.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing, is forbidden.

There is nobody walking with you on this leg of your journey – truly there can never be. The journey home is always a solitary one.

But solitary does not mean lonely, or even alone.

You know this, dear one, don’t you? You are never truly alone. Get quiet now. Pay attention. Can you feel your hand in mine? Can you feel the weight and warmth of it? Don’t you feel the touch of every loving soul and the light of all the wild things? The whole entire universe is lifting you up.

The fire keeps you company. And the spirit of the wolf. And the wild white mustang. And the essence all of those you met along the way. You carry them inside you and all around you.

You’ve become a part of their journey as well.

This is the way it always is with kindred souls. This is the way of the wild. This is the way of the pathway home.

Quickly now. It is time to leave. The full moon lights your way.

Your life belongs to you now. Your life and your story and your body and your precious wild heart. Every last bit of what makes you the miracle that you are. Regardless of what the rest of the world demands, here, there is no compromise. No settling. No making do.

This is reclamation. This is hallowed ground.

And it is entirely true.

Nothing is forbidden.

In the wild that is your home, nothing is ever forbidden. Not now, not ever again.

Welcome to your life, wild one.

Welcome all the way home.

“When did you know your life belonged to you?”
“When nothing was forbidden.”
Isabel Abbott

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Jeanette LeBlanc
Jeanette spent most of her life working very hard to be a good girl. One day she woke up and decided to write her way out of her own life - things haven’t been the same since. Single mama to two ridiculously unruly daughters, Jeanette believes in the smooth honey burn of whiskey, the crashing of mama ocean, pencil skirts, vintage band tees and fringed boots, the kinship of the wild wolf, walking for miles in unfamiliar cities, that the burn down always precedes the rise, the singular power of dark red lipstick and the necessity of putting out for the muse on the regular. Oh yea - and that sometimes our stories are the only things that can save us. Jeanette writes at www.peacelovefree.com and is the creator and founder of '30 Questions To Bring You Closer To Your Wild Heart' and Wild Heart Writers.
Jeanette LeBlanc

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