Home and the Ruby Slippers of Gratitude & Acceptance
This Thanksgiving is the first I have spent on my own. Not surprisingly, it’s got me thinking a lot about the meaning of gratitude, acceptance, and home.
This time of year, almost everyone is writing about gratitude – why it’s important, how to cultivate it, how an ‘attitude of gratitude’ can literally rewire your brain, and how you navigate the world. I am grateful – truly and deeply – for all that I have experienced and have access to on this journey called life. I am grateful, even as I take much for granted, learn & unlearn, and forget to remember these blessings. Gratitude is a practice I will keep practicing; and by definition, that means I will make mistakes as I build strength, coordination, muscle-memory, and endurance.
(Radical) Acceptance is a practice that follows closely with gratitude. An acknowledgement and assent of what is (reality) AND an embrace of all aspects without judgement or defense. For me, acceptance is a work in progress, a practice but not yet a habit. A longing to flow with the River of Joy, accompanied by the fear of fully and completely letting go of all the defenses that have kept me ‘safe’. And yet … rather than conceding the diverse richness of opportunity in this fertile space of transition to a larger, more abundant phase of life, there is a deepening awareness that resistance to change is the very thing keeping me feeling stuck in the sediment and stagnant waters of this delta.
Which brings me to the concept of home. More than a structure or building, it’s a place, a feeling, a space to exhale. A place of and for gratitude, in which one is (hopefully) fully accepted as they are. It’s often a place filled with nostalgia; memories fraught with tensions of both belonging & connectedness and loneliness & disconnection. It’s life, and acceptance of that complexity is what allows us to take in the next full breath.
Having lived in over a dozen places, I am grateful to have experienced the journey of rooting that allows for the fullness of home emotionally, physically, and spiritually. And still -- in this new home, in this moment, neither the physical nor the relational feels quite right. Like Dorothy, I am longing for the comfort and belonging of home. If only there were ruby slippers in which I could click my heels three times…
Well, there are. The essence of who we are, ruby slippers of gratitude and acceptance reside within each of us; a magnificent power to manifest home in our physical & spiritual body, and to create home externally.
Physically, I’ve allowed myself to ignore the beauty and magic of my corporal being. Rather than recognizing the wonder of how 30 trillion cells can replenish every ~3 months, a complete renewal that still maintains the essence of me, I have taken this vessel for granted. I have disregarded how every wrinkle, curve, and fold bears witness to my story, triumphs, and longings.
Spiritually, I have assumed that there will always be a here and now. I can get so lost in longings for what was or dreams of what could be, I steal the precious gift of presence from myself.
Externally, like an acorn, I have resisted rooting into this new place and phase of life. I am told that acorns often need an extended cold period to germinate, to prevent being killed off before getting established. Perhaps acceptance is recognition that rooting takes time and patience (so I am okay where and how I am) and gratitude is appreciation for the strength of this body and soul to shed what doesn’t serve and weather the winter with grace and compassion.
In this place of untetheredness, at the intersection of what was and what could be, I get to decide what home is. A tent floating at the intersection? An edifice, a feeling, a way of being? Acceptance of who I am and where I am now? The architect of my own life, I get to ask: What does my idea of home get to be? To look, feel, sound, smell, and taste like? Who do I invite in? What’s the foundation and how do I build roots? With what do I fill the rooms with? What do I create in its hearth?
There is no place like home. click. Thank you. There is no place like home. click. Yes, and please. There is no place like home. click. Exhale and breathe…
There are thousands of ways to kneel and kiss the ground; there are a thousand ways to go home again – Rumi
