Home
My soul is an invasive species
I’ve never felt at home. There are all sorts of biographical details I could point to, whether to Explain this or Give Context for it or just to flesh out examples. But I’ll spare you. I’ve never felt at home. We can leave it at that.
I spent a lot of time working on myself, treating myself as the problem. If I could just amputate this part of myself, I’d fit into the world and would finally feel At Home here. Or if I add this ill-fitting prosthetic version of a trait everyone else has, then I’ll manage to go unnoticed, I won’t stand out as Somewhat Alien, as an Outsider.
If I change the way I speak, so no one will notice the accent of my soul. If I suppress my natural movements, so no one will catch me out by my gestures, my gait.
I’ve never felt at home. It feels good to say that. Like I’ve stopped lying for the first time in my life.
When I ask my head what I want, I get a long list of things, ranging from culturally programmed answers (money! sex! power!!) to spiritually programmed answers (peace! enlightenment! love for all beings!!) to stuff that seems pretty much aligned with what this type of personality wants (a loving and powerful wife! a nice home in a nice city! some loyal friends!).
When I ask my heart what I want, I get a bit of a calmer, deeper frequency, something just under the surface of words. It’s a frequency that has to do with belonging, with connection, with engagement in meaningful work that benefits myself and the community around me. My heart emits something forest green that reaches calmly but insistently outward.
When I ask my gut what I want, something else happens. A pulse; an Emanation. Something purple and earthy that warps God’s fabric. It’s a Movement far below where words can touch, but the effort is clear: it’s a form of soulful terraforming. There’s a quote, supposedly Rumi but idk, that I saw as a teen:
My soul is from elsewhere
And I intend to end up there.
The Emanation in my gut, it calls up that quote, but bends it. It’s not that I plan to go somewhere else, to journey to the Place my soul recognizes as Home. No, the urge is to bring my soul’s Home here. To nurture and embody its frequency until that Place pours off of me and takes root everywhere around me, behind me, within me.
I’ve never felt at home. But I intend to.
so much of this moved me that i would have to highlight nearly every sentence to let you know which parts stuck out. thank you for sharing this 🫶🏼
When I read your writings, I usually think to myself “There is something here. He is onto something and whatever it is, it is difficult to wrap in words and share.“ So, I read it again and then try to read between the lines.
You keep writing and I will keep reading and thinking.