Life Lessons from the Sea #2: Finding our way back home


‘I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day, with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.’ -John Masefield
We’ve all been ocean spray at one time or another, leaving our homes to seek the unknown. Sometimes we simply drift away. Or we leave amid raging storms. Maybe we’re flung into the air from the tips of cresting waves, a normal separation, but separation nonetheless. Sometimes we’re trapped behind barriers so tall or rocky, we wonder if we’ll ever return.
I left my childhood home many years ago. Since then, I’ve drifted over mountains and across plains. I’ve nurtured gardens and sculpted streams. Storms have swept me to strange places I never expected to see. I’ve rained on deserts, snowed on ice fields, then returned to the clouds to try it all again.
But eventually, like water running to the sea, I find myself headed home.

When water rejoins the ocean, it grows in strength. A single drop can shoulder only a speck of soil, but the ocean carves continents. It’s always moving, even in moments of calm. Sometimes it swirls into squalls or tempests. Either way, it’s cleansing, changing.

A visit home is a time to gain perspective, a time to assess where we’ve been and where we are headed. Ideally, it’s a time of communion and peace, when we renew relationship and restore strength.
Most people have somewhere they consider home, somewhere that calls to them, no matter how far they drift away, somewhere they can rediscover themselves. What does home mean for you? When was the last time you were there?

  • Beautiful post Renee. Home to me is the smell of fresh bread cooking, a walk in the forest just after a fresh rain. Snuggling up with my husband watching a good movie and holding his hand. Talking on the phone with my aunt, laughing and listening to all her silly jokes, petting my cat Lucey and listening to my favorite music. Cooking dinner, sweeping my front porch and watching the humming birds drink from their favorite feeder. Having Gratitude for all these things will always be my permanent home!

    • Thanks for your delightful comments. I think some of the things you refer to as home for you touch a chord with most of us!

  • I love this. Home for me is my bed. Seriously-curling up, alone in the bed, ac on cold, book in hand. Happy momma!

    • I, too, love a good read! Thanks for your comment.

  • Such a lovely post, Renee. To answer your question, home is where ever I am. As an Air Force brat, I’d lived in 8 or 9 states and 2 foreign countries by the time I turned 14. When there’s no place to go “back to” you call where you are home. Thanks for posting your “lessons from the sea.”

    • Wow, Nancy, I didn’t realize you’ve lived such a colorful life! I’d like to hear about all the places you’ve seen someday 🙂