Coming Home

I walked away from the world that I knew. From a life I thought I had built to last forever. To explore a world of the great unknown. But did anything ever really change other than my address? On a trip back home, I went to visit an old friend one last time. Attached to an oxygen tank, a shell of man he used to be. We spoke for a few hours about life and where we were. While we spoke, he mentioned to me, “You know you had to leave in order to find yourself. And now you’ve come home your own man”. 
 
I keep those words in the back of my mind when I’m feeling lost. For so often we lose track of who we are. And for a myriad of reasons, we never seem to be able to find our way back. Like trying to live up to the expectations of others. Or living in consent fear of losing control. Or worse yet, the fear of never reaching an unattainable goal. So much of what the world demands is based on performance and winning. That the art of satisfaction gets lost in the pursuit.
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Over the last several years I’ve tempered my expectations. I’ve learned to recognize my limitations and to adjust accordingly. It’s not that I’m lazy, uninspired, or lost hope. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. I feel more productive, creative, and happier than ever. It all comes down to what feels right. Am I happy? Is what I’m doing worth waking up for? Our lives are but a tiny link in a much longer chain. We can either run around completely unaware. Or we can find a path. A path that will eventually lead us home.