Almost Home...

Dear Reader,

They say we begin to die the moment we are born. That everyday that goes by after the day of our birth is a day subtracted from our prescribed days here on earth and every development that occurs is merely a degeneration of sorts. Preparation for our inevitable return to the dust from which we were formed. 
Pretty morbid, isn't it?

I believe that life is a journey. I am sure that from the day we are born our life sets off in a particular  direction and we spend the rest of our days here on earth making decisions about the direction in which we should go. Whether we are aware of it or not we are all going somewhere...and yes, perhaps those who say we are merely travelling to our graves are right but the point is that we are going somewhere. And i am quite sure that the destination is home. Well, at least i feel that is my destination.

I came to this belief when i was 18-years old; when i started blogging and writing poetry. I had been feeling lost for a while and the frustration was becoming unbearable. Writing these blog posts become my remedy, something to help release the tension and somehow make sense of all the confusion happening inside. I was a broken 18-year-old with nothing but words and a gaping hole inside my heart that kept churning out questions i had no idea how to answer. I had an identity crisis, trust issues, daddy issues and no real home. No real idea of what the world was or how to begin to make sense of it all. All i knew was that when i was alone at 3am, words would come out of me and onto this page and i would begin to feel better.

This was the routine and this was me. I wrote poem after poem and during my early morning writing sessions i felt as if the things i wrote were not of me. I was convinced God was speaking to me and it felt good to have that connection to the divine. It was comforting and i coped well enough to eventually move out of that space.

Dear Reader,
Would you believe me if i told you that i found home? That at 19-years-old i felt like i was finally in the right place, with the right people, doing the right things? No?
 Well, i did.

And when i did?
 Oh, it was beautiful!
It felt like the sky had opened up above me
And the sunshine felt like it was shining directly on my face.
It was deliciously exciting to be alive!

It was an exciting time to be alive. I made friends in my new country, i found a purpose and all was well. And it has been well ever since except... i can't seem to shake off the feeling that i am no longer moving in the same direction i was back when i first began. I have since lost that feeling of certainty, of being at home and belonging. The questions are back and this time it seems like i can't even write my way out of it.

But then again, isn't that how life is?
 A constant quest for the things we decided we cannot live without? 
A never ending journey towards our purpose, our dreams
 and to fulfilling that which we were meant to be? 

Dear reader,
I write to you not as a sage but as another confused, frustrated yet hopeful young woman in the midst of another identity crisis and painful growth spurt. I want to tell you that i don't quite know how, but i am on my way home.

And that if you too, are feeling the way i am then you too, are probably on your way home.

Love,
Light, 
A fellow wanderer.