The Work of Returning

In every moment we are inside of something. A theme, a truth, a grief, a beauty — pressing on the soft walls of the heart, the quiet corners of the mind, the hidden chambers of the body. Usually all three, if we’re willing to listen that closely.

The real work is never somewhere far away. It’s not stashed behind tomorrow’s plans or the someday when you’ve finally earned your rest. It lives here, in the pulse of right now. In the question that never leaves: What is really here? What do I really feel?

So often, what lives inside us seems inconvenient. Or too small to matter. The parts of you that protect and cope want to keep you moving. The part of you that fears wants to stay in the familiar stories. But what if the bravest thing was to turn — relentlessly, devotedly, reverently — towards the truths pressing on your heart in each ordinary moment?

How successful, worthy, good, safe, healed would you have to be to deserve that? What bar would you have to clear to live that kind of attunement? What if you never had to delay it at all?

The world loves to warn you not to be too self-centered. To get the work done first. To be useful, productive, generous — then, maybe, rest. But those are just ideas. Stories passed around like old myths. You are not bound to them.

You are free, at any moment you wish, to choose another priority: the rhythm of your own heart. The voice inside your body. The truth that presses, whether you want it or not.

Maybe that is what you came here to do.