cherry blossom

The Uncharted Journey of Coming Home to Yourself, Part I

My favorite season is here. Favorite season for a reason. 🙂

Cherry blossoms, warm sunshine, past 7 p.m. sunsets. It all screams rebirth, rediscovery, reinvention. Coming home to yourself kind of vibe, right?

I’m writing this sitting in my car, on a slow Saturday morning, steam from my hot tea making tiny shapes in the air. An unexpected feeling washes over me. The one you get at the end of BoJack Horseman’s final episode. (Or while listening to Jack Savoretti’s live version of Breaking The Rules).

I’m here. I’m finally here. I’m home. I’ve come home to myself. My past, my present, my future. We’ve all met at the same intersection. Everyone is holding hands. We’re all dancing and laughing at some people honking at us to get our asses off the road.

But we don’t listen. We dance. And laugh.

I’m finally here. I found my home. And here’s how you will find yours (and yourself). I’ll be with you every step of the way.


Buckle Up, Sunshine, You’re Going Home to Yourself

There are three main parts to a journey. The beginning, the road, and the end. (God, journeys, and endings always make me think of Tony).  Some never begin, some never end, and some don’t begin nor end. It’s all a never-ending cycle. As all things are. 

And if some people never take off, some never make it to their final destination and some get stuck in the middle of the road- isn’t that the same thing?

Well, yeah. Pretty much. We’re all going around in circles. Some haven’t even got the tickets yet, some are comfortable in their seats and some have arrived at the end of the road. But it’s all one journey. Once your plane has landed, now you have to do it all over again. Begin again. There’s always going to be another plane.

Enough with the metaphors and analogies and whatnot. I’m kind of on a roll, but let me get straight to the point:

This journey I’ll be taking you on differs from any other journey you’ve ever been on. It’s very different from anything you’ve ever seen before. And I’m not trying to scare you off, but, my guys and gals, it’s a lot.

If you allow me, I’d like to borrow Brene Brown’s words:

It’s going to hurt. You can’t go back. And you do not know what’s waiting for you on the other side.

So, having second thoughts or you’re ready to jump in?

No Map, No GPS… but Who’s Driving?

Now, I got you to spend your money on a one-way ticket to all the mess and chaos, so guess I got a confession to make. I’ve got no idea where we’re going! But there’s no fun in knowing where you’re going.

Your entire life you’ve been told to find your purpose, your goal, your meaning. Well, what if I tell you: your purpose can be found in the wild uncertainty of the world, in trying to figure out where you’re going?

The only thing real is you looking out the window. Counting cars, trees, houses.

The moment you stepped on the train is gone, the moment you’ll be stepping off hasn’t even happened yet. But, you, counting the red cars that pass you by? You’re trying to figure out which car is red, or how long a tunnel is. That middle part of the journey, that’s where the actual shit happens. We’ll get there, but for now, just keep in mind that you don’t need a compass any other than yourself.

And why? Because you are the driver. See? That’s why I don’t know your route. I’m not driving. I’m just in the passenger seat, messing with your radio, complaining about your poor taste in music. So, the whole idea of traveling, the moments you spend counting the passing cars and trees and houses, not caring about the beginning, not caring about the end of the road- that’s the only purpose.

So, what do you need to put into your suitcase?

Should I Bring a New Toothbrush and Spare Towels?

Where’s your dusty old duffel? What are you waiting for?

Oh, I realize what you’re doing there, buddy. Maybe you thought to yourself: “I’ll just take the bus, she can’t make me drive.” You’re not getting away with it! Bus or no bus, you’re still driving. You may as well come to terms with it. (Fine, you can’t drive a bus or fly a plane, but let me get back to you on that in a few moments).

Let’s get packing. What do we need? Money? Check. Enough gas? Check. Some snacks? Check.

I don’t know what you’ll choose to take, but here’s my suggestion: take something you can feel. Leave behind everything you can see, touch, and smell.

Tuck your memories into vast spaces between wrinkled rock band T-shirts. Hide your dreams into the back pockets of your washed-out jeans. Take all your treasure, all that heals you, all that feeds your mind.

It’s tough to decide what to take with you, I’ll give you that. As for what stays? That’s even harder.

That’s the part that’s going to hurt. You can not come back from that. You’ll unwillingly stuff your bags with pain, disappointment, and fear. Don’t worry, things that don’t serve you eventually get discarded along the way. The journey is quite long.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Start Your Engines

For now, you need the essentials: yourself as the driver, your body as your suitcase. The driver who has no idea where he or she is going. With a suitcase of things he or she does and doesn’t need.

Remember me mentioning the three parts? Beginning, middle, and the end of the journey.

Well, this isn’t a common journey. It’s a journey of coming home to yourself. It has many parts, intersections, gas stations, traffic lights, and hitchhikers.

Don’t think about all that now. Let’s go on. Let’s find you out there.

Photo by Benjamin Elliott on Unsplash