A Whisper of Wholeness
Oh, that feeling of integrity after having drifted away. Just like a first day of spring!
Oh! There it is. That feeling you forgot you were missing. The one that doesn't announce itself with fanfare but arrives the way sunlight arrives on a morning you'd stopped expecting it. You've been away. Maybe for a while. Maybe so long that the distance stopped feeling like distance and started feeling like normal. The drift didn't happen all at once. It never does. Yet the return — it can happen in a single breath. In a moment. One moment — of honesty. One choice that lines up with something deeper than habit. And suddenly the weight you didn't know you were carrying lifts. Out of nowhere. Not because anything outside you changed. Because something inside you came home.
The first day of spring is never the one on the calendar. It's the day you step outside and feel it — that unmistakable warmth that has nothing to prove and everything to offer. A crocus pushing through soil that was frozen just last week. The air carrying something it wasn't carrying yesterday. You don't analyze spring. You receive it in the experience. And it fills you before you can think to resist it. I've drifted more times than I can count. Perhaps you have too. But what stays with me isn't the drifting. It's the feeling of return. Every single time. Realizing integrity had been waiting by the door the whole time I was gone, ready to welcome me back without a single question about where I'd been. Just warmth. Just light. Just the quiet joy of my soul recognizing that it's finally standing in its own spring. Again.
For further reflection
When was the last time I felt that unmistakable feeling of coming home to myself — and what small step might once again bring me home to it?