The Vitality of the Return
There is a specific something, like a frequency or an energy, that I seem to find only when I have been gone and finally return home. It doesn’t happen every time, but lately, I find it happening more and more.
It is like the sensation of stagnant water beginning to move. It is a sense of new life flowing—a sudden, sharp awareness of possibility. It feels as though the chi has finally begun to move through my body and my soul. It’s like the person who has been sitting on the couch for too long finally standing up to move: the blood flows, the ideas spark, and the energy shifts.
My daily life is hardly a "couch potato" existence, but that is how my energy can begin to feel without me even realizing it has happened. The stillness becomes a sort of sediment.
The last time I returned from a trip—a few days on the East Coast in the early fall—I came home and completely redecorated my house. I bought plants, moved furniture, and purged things that were no longer serving me. It was a tangible, physical manifestation of an internal shift.
Today, having returned last night from the Northern California coast, I am in it again. I am redecorating the patio, photographing the casita, and putting things in their place with a strange, happy urgency. My brain is enjoying the "how" of things: What would a retreat here entail? When can I offer it? How can I share this amazing life with others?
This feels like life to me. It feels like the parts of me are finally all in the same place, working in concert. It is invigorating. It is a connection with Self—a connection with Source.
The irony is that though I enjoyed my time away, I am also deeply happy to be home. I love my routine. I love sleeping early, going to the gym, eating exactly the way I like to eat, being with my animals, and being outside. I don’t "go away" because I am unhappy with my daily life—I actually adore the spaciousness and intentionality I’ve built here.
But I am back with a new energy. I am back revitalized.
It was so good to be with friends. To catch up. To pick up right where we left off, even though it’s been years since we have gathered together. Sometimes I forget how "busy" life can be in all of its complexity of kids and cities and traffic and jobs. It’s been over two decades since I walked away from that life. Looking at the contrast is a bit startling.
It was good to be gone. But it is so good to be back.
Going away wasn't about escaping. The point isn’t to stay "away"—the point is the coming back. We leave so that we can return with new vision, new life, and a new appreciation for the world we’ve built. We step out of the frame so we can finally see the whole picture.
