Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Coming Home To Myself

What is this strange reunion,
this homecoming to someone I did not know I had left?
Bittersweet, it’s hard to separate
the joy of returning to myself
from the sadness of missing the one who is gone.
What is lost and what is found are tangled together,
like legs caught in the bed sheets
after a restless night of love-making or loneliness.
The dream of shared desire was a wisp of smoke, a hope,
a mirage I sought to make substantive,
a reality I tried to earn,
having forgotten there is no bargaining for faith or love.
These are by grace or not at all.
Something I am
- some essence, or awareness, or presence-
is watching this woman I am, re-member herself.
Walking on the city street,
I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a store window:
Long hair, full-skirted dress and sandals-
all three white light mixed with silver, mercurial-
fabric and hair floating around me on
the dark heat rising from the black pavement.
And the thought comes: “I feel like myself again.”
I am surprised, and a little shocked.
I did not know I had wandered so far
from who and what I am.
Far enough to have forgotten the fragrance of home-
the warm cinnamon scent
of the place where the animal self
surrenders to unguarded joy,
the place where the heart feels free
to welcome the unfettered passion
for moving quickly or being very still.
I had wandered so long
I’d stopping missing or even looking for myself.
But I longed.
Although even that became muted,
an underwater echo, blue green, and easy to miss.
Each day now a little more of who I am
is retrieved from the ocean floor:
the pleasure of my own cooking-
fresh eggs scrambled
with rosemary, and mushrooms, and sharp cheese;
the feel of silk across the back of my neck,
a cool caress to tender skin,
reawakening the need for touch;
the strength in my legs,
the joy of taking long strides with nowhere to go;
the quiet of the morning,
as I sit facing east just before the sun appears,
and then, the moment when the sun crests the horizon,
my gaze behind closed eyes flaring crimson and gold.
No recrimination for my absence
I am welcomed as the prodigal daughter
Longed for,
Looked for,
Home at last.


  1. Oriah,

    First let me say what a wonderful piece of "artwork" you have created yet again with your brush aka keyboard, a painting if you will that I believe will appear differently to each of us as we read the words and in our minds and hearts, if we are ready to do so, will see the painting that now hangs either in front of us or just over our shoulder.....and when we pause to reflect over it or back on it only now we can see how we drifted slowly so far away from ourselves only to find ourselves so very lost and so far off the trail, and so very tired. And its in the recognizing of this and the conscience decision to "stop" and turn around and find our way home by simply following our hearts does the healing begin....... For me personally it was 5 years into my marriage when one night my wife asked me...."Why do you hate me so?" At first I was shocked that someone actually thought or felt that I was capable of such a thing as "hate." I was stunned to say the least by the question and I honestly dont remember my answer that night. We divorced within days of this event. After three years of no contact with her and the divorce long since behind us I met with her to give her the answer to her question that she had asked me that night, a question that had haunted me everyday for the last three years....and I told her that..."I did not hate her, that I am not capable of hating, someone and that hate was sinister, dark, and evil, however what I hated was what had happened to , who I had become, as a result of being married to her." That clarity was for me the turning point, the place and time when I consciously realized just how far I had wondered away from myself and then made the decision to find not only just find my way back to me, but to find me for the first time in my life. I met many interesting and helpful people along the way but to this day there is really only one person who I met who helped me the most find me, the one person who I always think of first and foremost and that my friend is you. I truly believe that God used you to get me back to me and in that process I met one of the most beautiful persons on this planet, one who I call my friend, because thats what you are to are my friend, and it dosent matter that we have never met face to face or that we might never meet....thats ok......because I feel you with me everyday and I see you all the time in how I live my life now. BIG THANKS ole friend for all of your help getting here to today and for sharing with me, along the way, the stories of you and your life and your journey....and as much as I have loved each and everyone of the stories, it was always in the "sharing" that you touched my heart the most and made me feel not so alone in this big world.

    Thanks again darlin! You will continue to be in my thoughts and prayers.

    ~Chris in Cumberland, Maryland~

  2. Oriah,
    Thank you for pouring yourself out onto this canvas. Your masterful ability to paint with words moves me to the core. I am blessed to "know" you.

    Welcome "home".

  3. Yeeees! it is good to see you again.


  4. A big WELCOME home again! And thank you for your words, as usual.

  5. Beautiful! Funny how we find ourSELVES in the middle of pain, isn't it?

  6. Dear Oriah,

    Your beautiful words have again struck such a chord and remind me that at moments of inner homecoming such as these we must thank that wonderful Source of love and light ~ The Great Mystery that resides in all of us.. and to which we are really returning...

    "God loves to decorate. God has to decorate. Let Him live long enough in a heart, and that heart will begin to change. Portraits of hurt will be replaced by landscapes of grace. Walls of anger will be demolished and shaky foundations restored. God can no more leave a life unchanged than a mother can leave her child's tear untouched." (Max Lucado)

    Sending you continual love, blessings and light for your path,
    Annie, Wiltshire, UK

  7. I really relate to this post. Many, many years ago when my husband left me in appalling circumstances which left me little more than a shell shocked refugee, owning nothing but my own devasted self, I remember this gradual realization of coming home to myself - exactly as you are describing it. It was such an intense experience of gut ripping grief interspersed with explosions of such unexpected joy of finding ME again.

    Now, I am in a relationship in which we both choose to maintain our separate spaces. I experience the joy of us coming together and also the delight of reconnecting with myself in my own quiet home after a period of time together. Over the years I have learned to find the parting as exciting as the coming together. I am my favourite lover, after all....

  8. Oriah, you are beyond words, and whether you are away from yourself or with yourself, you will always be larger than you perceive.
    This was a beautiful tribute to you.

    Welcome home.

  9. Oriah,

    Wow. Your words in this weeks blog have captured this shifting and releasing that is occuring within you so beautifully and descriptively. They brought on the tears and inspiration. There is a point to the madness I believe, in that it brings us a new experience of ourselves when we are ready. I am glad to see your homecoming. It's beautiful to watch unfold in your weekly blogs. I am sure by the time you return from your trip there will have been many more amazing pieces such as you have written here. Thank you and my heart is with you on your journey.
    Love, Liz