383 Words on Coming Home to Myself

There’s a lovely book of prayers and blessings called To Bless the Space Between Us, by the inimitable writer/theologian John O’Donohue. John O’Donohue had a rare way with words. His work is pastoral, compassionate, and imaginative. To Bless the Space Between Us is a gift to the world, and it’s a resource I refer to often, both for my own nurture and healing, and also when I don’t have the words to say to others. 

One of the blessings in that book is called To Come Home to Yourself. 

Here’s a taste of what it says: 

May all that is unforgiven in you,

Be released.

May your fears yield

Their deepest tranquilities.

May all that is unlived in you,

Blossom into a future,

Graced with love.

Ah, beauty! I have found, though, that what I most resonate with is the title To Come Home to Yourself. 

It’s a nugget worth pondering. 

When do I come home to myself? What does it take to come home to myself? How can I help my friend come home to herself? 

When I slip under the water of the pool after a few weeks away, I’m reminded: I’m home. 

When I’m making heart-shaped waffles in the morning: this is home. Home is wherever you are. And you (and you, and you, and you, too. Even you.) 

Home is sitting on the patio with a mug of coffee, recording messages to you. It’s listening to the replies in the evening while making dinner. 

Your heartbeat is home, and your scratchy stubble.

Home is remembering that “the bond which God establishes in Baptism is indissoluble.”*

I come home to myself when I shove all the chips on the table or blow on the embers of a dying fire. All in. Never give up. It’s me. It’s home. 

I’m home when my family and friends are fully themselves, too. Loving what they love. Living their lives. Quirky and weird, as we all are. 

I found home when I played that first b flat concert scale in band after years away, and when I accept what I’ve always known to be true in my life which is this: we don’t choose God, God chooses us. It’s the way it has always been. Ever since I was a little girl. 

*Book of Common Prayer, Episcopal Church 

#WritersWrite and I write almost every day. I sometimes share my thoughts publicly in this series called “500 Words or Less” This practice allows me to explore a variety of different topics in a restrained/contained way and learn what resonates with people. I wrote it, not AI. If you share, please give proper credit. © Traci Smith, 2023. All Rights Reserved.

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