One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice –
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
‘Mend my life!’ each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations
though their melancholy
was terrible. It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice,
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do
determined to save
the only life you could save.
– Mary Oliver, The Journey
When I first read The Journey I cried. And then I cried some more. I remembered all of the trembling houses and wild nights in my life. I remembered the bad advice and the lives I tried to mend – whether my help was asked for or not. I remembered stumbling on roads filled with debris. I remembered the stiff fingers of The Past that pried at my life.
Little by little over a period of many years I learned to trust my own voice. I understood what other people did or didn’t do was none of my business. My only job was to become the best version of myself I could be, and to do what was necessary to find the peaceful home within myself. An inner home with a strong foundation, with windows wide open to the world, a sanctuary surrounding my heart so no matter what was going on outside of me I could go back home to the peace within.
My inner home was built with love, resilience and courage. It’s the place that saved my life, the place I started to build so long ago, the place I’m only now fully moving into.
