Walking Home


Along the way I meet wonderful people, travelers like me. We sit by warm fires, on beaches at pubs laughing, cherishing our stories. These are the memories that make my heart start to beat a little, that bring back hope when the way becomes dark and scary. On the way, the dark and scary way, I am looking for signs of home. Something familiar that speaks to me of belonging…that knowing inside that I am ok, safe, acceptable, adequate even. I’m so homesick for a place I can’t remember. There’s an ache inside of me, a disconnect from the waking world. I feel like if I give in, let go..I will never come back. The grace of falling will bewitch me so much there won’t be any will to look forward to the next day.

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