We were lying by the fire pit, gazing at the big dipper under the trance of the gong bath. Kaleidoscopic images of sacred geometry were projecting onto the trees as steamy bodies shuffled in and out of the domed saunas. It was such a typical evening, sometimes I forget what a parallel hippie reality we live in.
He was pointing out shapes in the stars and explaining something I wasn’t listening to. Sometimes, I thought, voice says more than language. The gong intertwined with his soft words, and I was at peace.
After a few moments, I rolled over and asked, “What does home mean to you?”
He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he told me about his experience with 5 MEO DMT. At the end of the story, he concluded, “...that, to me, was home. DMT was home. It felt like pure love, like truth.”
Something unlocked for me as he said these words. It reminded me of something I learned from a Buddhist monk. He taught me, when we don’t know, we think.
I had been playing mental gymnastics with this concept of home for months, ever since I’d left mine a year ago. The pursuit of this answer was more out of utility than theory.
It circulated frequently through my mind…”What does it mean to find home within oneself?”
Since I didn’t know, I had been gathering information.
It led me to listen to this one recording by Dr. Richard Rudd, the creator of the Gene Keys, on repeat. He explores the dilemma of trying to find stability in anything whose fundamental nature is mutable. He explains how this attempt is built on a misunderstanding of the fundamental nature of reality. It will invariably lead to suffering. Because...death. Another transition. Another reminder of impermanence.
They say the only constant is change. However, something inside me deeply rejects this statement. I know in my bones that some things are constant. And this is where we approach spirituality, and disagreement.
The nature of the material world is change, yes. But, let’s imagine for a moment, that the underlying essence of life is unconditional love. This aspect of life is beyond time and space. This is the immoveable aspect of us.
After months, I found an answer that rang so true to me, the question itself dissolved. Once I knew, all the thoughts and questions quietly evaporated.
Home…is love. My heart swelled.
When we feel love, we feel at home. We naturally, and incorrectly, correlate this feeling to places and times and people that touch the wellspring of love in us. We say, “I am at home”. Ultimately, though, the people and the places and the experiences never created home; home is the love that radiates from inside of us.
It is the fabric of who we are, the fundamental quantum structure and source of the entire holographic universe.
The greater implication here is the key that unlocks an ocean of grace: we ARE love.
That is why love feels like home. But, taking it a layer deeper, perhaps love is not a feeling. Rather, imagine love as our steadfast quality of being. It’s our immutable essence, right there, underneath the fear and doubt and distraction. This, I believe, is the meaning of “love is patient, love is kind…” It has less to do with partnership and more to do with the everlasting love that IS us, patiently waiting to be remembered.
What we are touching on when we “feel love”, is not an emotion then, but a homecoming. It’s a return to truth. Stay with it long enough, and it will begin to flower into the answer to the Great Cosmic Joke - the answer that short circuits all searching.
And it is this...we spend a lifetime seeking for what is, and always has been, right here inside of us. We are already home.