The Myth of Coming Home to Yourself

Sitting with the thoughts of home. Last couple of days I felt the longing for a home. A place where I could return too. So I would feel safe. Comfortable. AtAnd I’m not even talking about the home we all have, maybe a cottage in the forest, an apartment in the city or any form else that we return too every single day.

No, I’m talking about the home within ourselves. The seeking these days of us all, and the new commercialized safety of our ego: ComingHome To One Self. And sitting with this concept, I realized that is all it is, a concept.

Because if we long, seek or want to come home to oneself. We market it as something we can return to. Something vast that is within us and we are longing to find.

Marketing it as inner peace, inner freedom and inner joy. So before we know we are busy trying to come home to oneself. By doing. But what if there is no home to return to? What if that safety is just ego wrappedin spiritual languageto give us a sense of security and safety. So it won’t be confronted with the terrifying thought of grasping into nothingness.

Because nothing is more scary than the thought of having nothing to return to. Nothing to long for. Nothing to seek. Because that means there is nothing we need to do. Achieve. Or Be.

But what if coming home to oneself is seen as not a place home to return to. But a state you tap into. And again not a vast state of locking yourself in, into the thoughts of identity: This is me.

But what if the state is the state of the utterly simplicity of the present moment.The everlasting changing here and now. The complete surrender into the spaciousness and emptiness of the presence. The only place where we truly are able to tap into the infinite beauty of our shared essence.

Home. Can never be found. Because the moment you seek. You left home.

With love,
Eline Marloes