Soul Lessons: Homing - Returning to One's Self

"...The most important thing I can tell you about the timing of the home cycle is this: When it's time, it's time. Even if you're not ready, even if things are undone, even if today your ship is coming in. When it's time, it's time. The seal woman returns to the sea not b ecause she feels like it, not because today is a good day to go, not because her life is all nice and tidy -- there is no nice and tidy time for anyone. She goes because it is time, and therefore she must"... --"Women Who Run With the Wolves" by Clarissa Pinkola Estes

In this Soul Lesson, we delve into the need each of us has to withdraw from everyday life, and reconnect with what rejuvenates us. This is a natural rhythm, to be embraced, not avoided. Yet in modern life, women are pushed to be SuperWomen - to do it all, which leaves precious little time for us to tend our soulskins.

Here is what the Wild Wolf Women of the Web had to say about their own experiences with returning Home…



I was up several hours last night trying to listen to what it was that's up with me. A big part of me just really, really wants to know so that I can "fix" it and move on. I don't believe that's my true answer. I think I am meant to listen deeply to myself, my heart and my soul. What is it that I really need right now? Why am I feeling so freaked out? I'm aware that I'm still doing a lot of reaching out and not tending to my own heart first. It's not a good place for me to be. I give toooooo much and then I'm depleted....I feel dry, tired and homesick....and I would add "lost and afraid." I caught the end of Dr. Christiane Northrup's special on menopause yesterday and heard her say that women need to learn to surrender and receive. *Then* she said that if we don't learn how to receive, we will only attract people who don't know how to give. Ooooohhhhh!!! Dear Loving Seal Mother, Thank you for the beautiful images of this story - of my pelt, my brass brassiere and a reminder that I need to return home...often. We both know that I have so much trouble giving too much away. I want to take better care of my pelt and of me. I want to return home more often and to be at home in my home and not feel guilty turning towards home. Help me to remember that it's not a luxury but a necessity. I trust you are showing me how and leading me. I am grateful. Love, your daughter,



I find some days it is a constant battle to keep my pelt, so many people want some part of me I cannot give. I always love questions about where is my home. Because I have moved so much and been without companionship for whatever reason (my choice or not my choice), I have made wherever I am my home. My home is within me



Just very very aware of how deeply meaningful and timely this soul lesson is for me. I have known for some long time that my pelt has been missing wthout understanding the whys and wherefores. I have just known that I am tired, bone and soul weary. I have gradually lost my spiritual practice, the things which have given my life meaning and structure. It has been insidious,a sliding away. Although my husband is a believer in things of the soul, he does not have a daily practice and so mine has slipped as we have hared off to the market etc etc and I have been cross with myself that it has happened.



I know I need to return to my home desperately urgently. I don't know where it is except deep inside me I hear the call of the instinctual nature. It is like the blind homing run of a salmon spawned in a river who instinctively, intuitively knows its way back. I need peace, tranquillity and space in order to do so and I am going to have it because it is my life blood which is seeping away…It is time to return



I felt I was numb, I couldn't decide on a question of great importance, often did not even see it as a crossroad that should take great care in deciding, I just took the path that was easier ... I really feel I was living soul less then, it was my soul returned that I became aware, awake and wanted to live life with intention ... a poster is on the wall of my den here with that phrase… I am returning home, finding my skin again.



I have a little bell that sits on my bookshelf that came from the farm where I spent much of my school holidays. The bell used to be kept just inside the door of the farmhouse - sometimes on a step or sometimes it was ben the scullery. Grandma would use it to summon us in for lunch, or fly-cup, or tea. It didn't do to tarry and have her ring it twice because that would mean you'd get last option of any fine pieces that were on the go (pancakes, melting moments, sponge cake - all made by Grandma). I can pick that bell up and ring it and I'm back on the croft roaming free in the fields, or listening to the crows, or catching water-beetles and letting them go... Sometimes I can remember every inch of soil on the garden path or the way the land sloped up to the gate of the top field... I can remember the way a big deep puddle always formed at the second turn of the track and if I was first round in the morning the puddle water was clear and I would drop a tint pebble and disturb the sediment, or stamp my wellie boot and make a splash...



I know that I go through cycles and sometimes they don't feel comfortable at all yet when the spiral turns and I find myself further down the path I can look back and see why I needed to be there. So I'm more comfortable with being uncomfortable because I'm more confident that it too will pass... Just now I think I'm awake and listening and following the signs. I'm hearing myself when she says what she wants.



When I realize I am in a lost and dry condition this strength and determination fill me with such power that i have overcome some incredible odds to not only survive but to find my treasure, my soul...I know I can always rely on this process and that brings me great comfort and security as I bumble my way through the situations and events in my life...as I get older I feel assured that I am learning the right steps to take to stay close to my skin...I feel the bumbling lessen and grace starting to lead the way....it has been a long journey, one that has strengthened me beyond what I could have ever hoped for....today I truly understand the value of the treasure, having lived so often, painfully, without it... it has become my main focus in life...to hold on to my soul and the connection with the old one under the sea, to examine, exclaim over, and hold dear this relationship...I am lucky and loved enough to have the time to do this in a deep and satisfying way....so day to day I sit and go deeper and deeper...after this I know it will be much harder to lose myself to all the ways of loss...I am so grateful for this learning and growing.



I think that for me this is the chapter that has had the most impact on my life. When I first read WWRWW I read this chapter over and over again - it made me cry in that I could see myself in the story. For me to go back and do this sould lesson serves as a reminder to never let me lose my pelt again and that whilst life carries on around you and you feel pulled in so many different direction, staying true to youself is vitally important. What saddens me the most though is allowing one to lose the pelt in the first place. I love how the chap opens with the wild words. I think they may even become a mantra to me...



Somewhere around 20, I think, I decided to define myself, and to let myself re-define myself as time went on. (I think I have mentioned that ambiguity does not frighten me). Somehow in the chaos of all my times (and places) I kept that soul dance going inside me. I'm not saying it was easy, or that decisions that I made were the "right" ones, meaning the ones without pain, because they were not. (And in that sense, they were, of course, the "right" decisions because of the pain and where it sent me.)

But where did that vision of inner strength/ of sense of self evolve from? That is the mystery to me and not a mystery at all when I look back at my role models - two incredibly strong women with self centered sense of self: my mother and my grandmother.



Estes points out that this story is told in cold countries, so it brings to mind a "memento" that is instilled in my bones/psyche = for the remainder of my life - it is about being "chilled to the bone" and the significance it played - mentally, emotionally, and physically on my being. We never know what lies around the corner in wait for us from moment to moment - what lies in waiting to shift us to the next level, that is, if we are willing to acknowledge it's knocking at the door of our soul. The metaphor of "cold" did not become apparent until several years ago . . . a time when I had lost touch with my soul - I had become bone tired.

It was then that winter came knocking at my door, and I found myself unable to tolerate its presence. Its cold winds seemed to cut to the bone, to my very essence, leaving me almost paralyzed - it affected every aspect of my life. I tried wearing triple layers of clothing and turning the thermostat up to eighty (I was menopausal/hot flashes/night sweats)

One day whilst outside shivering, it struck me like a lightening bolt - the cold weather made me feel as though I had "no skin" . . . no skin to protect me from the bitter cold . . . I had no pelt. Upon this revelation, I pulled out my WWRWTW and was led to Homing: Returning to =Oneself and began reading it.