You are so eloquent, I here it, but I feel a deep river ahead of me to forge, slow and easy.
I have been waiting for this day * I will read this over and over to let it sink in, I am so grateful
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That street where you have been living
Is not your real home.
What do you think your discomfort has been telling you?
Pack your bags.
Better yet,
Leave all that stuff behind for the next tenant passing through
And, no matter what, don't look back!
You'll only end up a statue of salt next to Lot's wife.
Be empty. Travel light. Travel in Light.
Rise from that lumpy old mattress you've worn a groove in.
Throw the door open.
And remember: don't look back.
That street where you've been living
Is not your real home.
Walk on.
Let your trusting steps bring you here,
to this infinite spaciousness ceaselessly unfolding its Mystery;
where you have always known you belong.
There will be a candle in the window to welcome you.
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