I remember walking down the dirt path lined by rows of tobacco, toward the bush, with a borrowed wagon trailing behind me. I was likely 8 or 9 years old and had picked fresh veggies from the garden and brought pans I’d been given for my brick playhouse under the tree line where I spent summers playing house throughout my childhood. I figured I may need to collect water because I had no idea how long I would be gone.
I had wrote a note on the chalk board in my Grandparents basement as to why I was running away. My cousin and brother weren’t being nice to me and I was fed up, so I decided to run away in order to teach them they couldn’t treat me that way and have me stay.
As I walked swiftly toward the bush, intent on staying away as long as it took for them to care I wasn’t there, I heard the sound of my Papa’s truck slowly pulling up alongside me. I’d been discovered and while my plan was foiled I was secretly glad I hadn’t had to carry it through as part of me wasn’t sure how long I would have had to wait, or how much trouble I would have been in when I returned.
My Papa didn’t ask any questions about what I was doing, he just asked “Want a ride?”
He got out and loaded my wagon into the back of the truck and then together we rode silently back to the house while he smoked his pipe. I went downstairs to erase my note once I got in, lest anyone see I hadn’t really meant what I’d wrote, and I never mentioned it again, until years later when I realized how much that experience meant to the little girl inside me.
The unconditional love and understanding my Papa showed me that day, and in many more instances since, offered me a sense of relief that came from with knowing I belonged despite how I felt in that moment.
There were many other times when I didn’t get such immediate validation from the Universe as to how much I was loved and each of those times my disappointment served me in developing the wounds and scar tissue that I’d have to work through for years after. Each of them came with stories I’ve worn as veils for periods of time, and each of them have helped me understand myself all the more.
This one however filled my self-esteem account more than the others could drain it because in my desperation, he came without question. No shame, no trouble, no questions, he just came.
Not only did my Papa show up for me in that moment, what I know now is that he was simply the vessel the Universe used to let me know I wasn’t alone and that I was being supported even when my hurt feelings made me feel alone.
Whatever you’re facing and however alone you feel through it Darling, I hope this message acts as a reminder to you that you never have to run away thinking your presence won’t be missed. You just need to be open to the helping hand the Universe sends to guide you home.
Others can bring you home in the outside world but only you can take yourself home to yourself; you’ll have guides to lead you for parts along the way, offering you tools to make the journey easier, and I hope that’s what this message is for you today.
Our stories are how we connect and I am grateful we’re sharing this journey to Belonging: A 21-day Adventure Home To Myself. Email me now at laura@ljeh.ca to receive this series straight to your inbox now and let me know what resonates with you about what you’ve read so far.
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Much love,
Laura JeH- Namaste
