Stillness 10-14: Sometimes a feeling of wanderlust hits me so hard it takes my breath away. I long to sit on a lanai on a south sea island. I hunger for a trek across a Himalayan mountain, for the wild moors of the north country, for the crowded streets of a grand old city. For a southern California moonrise. For a visit to a Zen garden. To rock gently on a deck of a boat as the sun rises. For a night under the stars in a far-off desert.
None of it seems possible just now, and when I catch my breath again, I remember this is where I want to be—nowhere else. Showered by orange-and-yellow leaves, watching the mist rise in the early morning, feeling warm sunshine, sweet rain, early evenings. The rich harvest, the cozy fires in the hearth, the mountains surrounding and protecting me, and geese traveling across the sky. I remember where I want to be is where I am. Going inward and feeling at home in myself and exploring nooks and crannies of infinite feelings, thoughts, and experience is the best voyage there is.
Someone asked me recently “what do I do?” She meant what do I do for a living so I described (perhaps clumsily) my metaphysical practice as a way of helping people know themselves better and find direction in their lives. Her surprising (to me) response was a horrified, “Oh, dear, I wouldn’t want to know myself any better than I do!”
She said it in a self-deprecating way, as though people who spend time indulging in inner work are lazy and egotistical and she was busy and humble. It’s how many people used to view therapy, instead of seeing it as the hard work and rich reward that comes from soul-searching, contemplation, and reflection.
And today I was remembering St. Augustine’s beautiful lines from Confessions:
“People travel to wonder at the height of the mountains, at the huge waves of the seas, at the long course of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars, and yet they pass themselves by without wondering.”