Coming Home to Myself

(Picture Credit: The Soul Leaf)

There's a quiet kind of healing that doesn't arrive with fireworks or sudden revelations. It comes in the stillness of morning, in the warmth of a cup held with both hands, in the decision to honor a rhythm that feels true.

Coming home to myself is not about reaching a destination, but about remembering what has always been here, peace, steadiness, and clarity. It is the quiet strength of being dependable, consistent, and rooted. I don't need to be the smartest or the loudest. I only need to be faithful to who I am - present and true.

Homecoming is gratitude - for the work, the spaces, the relationships, and the simple routines that bring stability. Gratitude is not waiting for more, but seeing the abundance already present.

It is also rhythm - waking with intention, resting with ease, shaping days with consistency and care. Rhythm is not rigidity but alignment, a way to ground in the present while preparing for what lies ahead.

Coming home is trusting the unfolding, knowing the next step will reveal itself in time. Home is not a place, but a state of being: peace in the midst of change, gratitude in the midst of uncertainty, and the quiet knowing that I am enough, right here and now.