Coming back home

I started contemplating this idea of coming back home. What would it actually take for us to realise it?

When we deal with matters that are more complex, such as matters of the heart and soul, things can become quite abstract. Sometimes, the best way to understand them is to bring them closer to reality, to simplify them through something tangible, something we can relate to in our everyday lives.

In this case, the metaphor is quite obvious: our actual home.

Let's imagine we have lost our way and somehow become separated from our physical home. We want to return, but what would that really mean? What would it take for us to find our way back?

• First of all, we need to have a home to return to. We need a clear destination, a sense of where we belong and, at the very least, a general direction in which to go.

• Second, we need to realise that we are lost. We need to become aware that we have somehow wandered away, that we are no longer where we are meant to be.

• And third, we need the intention and the desire to return. We must want to make our way back and be willing to begin the journey.

Good. I believe this is exactly where we are today.

We are at the very beginning of the journey, standing right before that first step. Now comes the next part. We need to prepare, to plan, to gather information and resources, and to understand what this journey might require of us.

And then, most importantly, we need to take that first step.

Where did I start? Right from the third point above: Intention & Desire.

Think about it for a moment. What kind of house would you simply love to come back to? A beautiful, fresh, clean house. A place that welcomes you the moment you step inside, where everything feels good to the eye, where you can breathe freely, relax, and simply be.

And since the intention is to come back home into my everyday life, why not start with the most obvious place of all? My actual house.

If I want to be fully present in my everyday life, I need to create an environment in which I actually want to be present. And as we had just returned with too much luggage, clothes to wash, and things scattered around waiting to be put back in order, I knew where to begin.

I would clean up the environment of my everyday life. Make it so beautiful, so fresh, so amazing, that it would shine with a light of its own, a light calling for my spirit to be present.

Because, really, if everything around me is full of chores, dirty dishes, piles of clothes, mess, and disorganisation, why would my soul want to inhabit this space? There are much more beautiful places readily available in my imagined worlds, places where everything can be exactly as I wish it to be. And perhaps this is part of the reason why it is so easy to escape there.

What if, instead, I could make my actual life a place I genuinely desire to inhabit? What if the ordinary environment around me could become so beautiful that I would want to be fully there, rather than somewhere else?

This felt like a very good first step. 

And isn’t it beautiful how God speaks to us through one another? Just days ago, a beautiful soul friend reminded me of an exercise that I decided to put in practice.

Instead of approaching the cleaning as a chore, something that simply had to be done before I could get on with more important things, I did it with the highest intention I could bring to it. Blessing every object, blessing the house, blessing the clothes, blessing the dishes. Giving my full attention to these simple acts, turning them into a beautiful, almost magical dance of inviting the spirit into the most ordinary things. 

There is something beautiful and powerful about this practice. Nothing needs to be extraordinary. Nothing needs to happen somewhere else. The house, the clothes, the dishes, the simple acts of putting everything back in order are all part of the journey.

And what about the moments when I wasn't doing anything around the house?

I stayed present and observed.

Whenever I noticed myself drifting into a thought or a memory, I would consciously bring myself back to the present moment. I would practise the Revision of Life technique, bringing the vital energy invested in that memory back into the present, into my heart.

Again and again, as many times as needed.

It takes only a second of attention to notice where I have gone and bring myself back. And each time I do it, I have another opportunity to strengthen this state of presence, to make it a little more familiar, a little more accessible.

Of course, being right at the beginning, full of enthusiasm and the energy of a new undertaking, I soon started gathering more and more ideas about what I could do to realise this mission. One idea led to another, and gradually, the outline of a more concrete plan began to take shape.

I wanted to capture these ideas before they disappeared into the flow of everyday life. To give them a place, to look at them, and to start exploring how each of them might contribute to the journey.

One thing I observed throughout this day was that, even though I had taken care of my vital body and my practice was filling me with good energy, the constant pull of old habits and the continuous effort to bring myself back into the present moment were surprisingly tiring. By the end of it, I felt almost exhausted.

And I think this is good.

When we start moving in a different direction, against the gravity of our old patterns, habits, and influences, there is a constant conscious effort required to keep ourselves on track. And naturally, the resistance will show up to meet us. The moment we start doing things differently, all the things that have been keeping us where we are begin to make themselves felt.

But what if this resistance is not something we need to fight against as an enemy? What if, instead, it is an opportunity to see more clearly what we are dealing with?

When the desire to transform is genuine, and we have enough energy to sustain the journey, these resistances don't have to stop us or defeat us. They can become opportunities to discover our own limitations, the blockages we carry, the invisible weights that keep pulling us back into the familiar.

And once we become aware of them, once we can actually see them for what they are, we have a chance to do something about them.

As long as these patterns remain hidden in our subconscious, they can influence us without even realising it. They seem to have a will of their own, emerging when we are most vulnerable and taking over before we have the chance to consciously respond. In those moments, we have very little say in what happens.

But when we embark on a sacred mission, whether we see it as a mission for God or a journey back to our own true self, something begins to change. We start paying attention. We become more aware of what is happening within us, and the things that once operated in the background begin to enter our conscious awareness.

And this is where the real opportunity lies.

What was once an unconscious force pulling us in a direction we didn't choose becomes something we can observe, understand, and gradually learn to overcome through conscious practice. This is also part of the journey back home. 

There is still a lot to discover. But at least now, some of it is becoming visible.