Sometimes, you can come home again

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In some ways, you can  go home again

For a while now I have abandoned many things, many passions, due to self doubt and uncertainty. I have allowed other people’s opinions, actions and behavior to control my decisions. In some ways, this could be seen as a positive thing, my life journey has taken me far away from where I once was, and because of that departure I have grown in ways I could not have otherwise.

I’ve been told on many occasions, that you can never go home again. Those that said it meant that no matter what you do, when you leave for a long time and return, everything is so changed that even home becomes foreign. My mother is gone from this world, most of my old friends, the ones not in and out of jail, are stuck in the same closed loop, listening to the same broken record, with same opinion of life they had back then and simply aren’t worth having as friends anymore. I have however formed new bonds with people who are reliable and dependable for the most part, and as far as I can tell, true friends. In some ways, perhaps not coming home again is a good thing.

Still, today I had gotten into an anecdotal conversation about martial arts, and we discussed good methods for countering a certain type of attack. After the brief conversation was over, something I had not visited in quite some time resurfaced, a passion I had not so much forgotten about, but in all honesty given up on. Not everything in this world needs to be about success, not everything in this world needs to be about impressing anyone, some things are just for you. I think to experience this old thing in a new light changed the way I viewed it, and thanks to the ways life has changed me, my appreciation for it has changed.

However, as we said before, you can never go home again because things have changed so much. I wonder though; what if when you were home, you were never really “there”? What if for the first time I’m seeing a piece of home with open eyes and though it’s different, it’s more like what it really was all along. Martial arts is no longer a means of escape, today I realized it is a means of self expression. With this new life, perhaps that expression will be more real and less clouded than ever before.

Even then I had mere scraps of what someone might call a home, but in this case I feel as though I am seeing the good that was present at times in my home for the first time. Perhaps without the journey, I would never have seen these things.

Perhaps talents are our way of not getting lost in life, tracking them back to the beginning, cataloguing our lives, in my case as far back as I am capable of remembering. How beautiful is that? To have a means to find your way home, at least within yourself, and to allow the life you have lived to see home in a way you never did before?

You can’t change the bad, but sometimes it can be possible to ignore the good and only remember the bad. However the truth would seem to be, that if you search deeply enough, you can find pieces of home that are genuine and not warped memories created by some defense mechanism in your psyche, but true memories worth revisiting, worth coming home to.  

And in some ways, you truly can come home, and stay there.

(copyright 2010 Kephra Rubin)


About Kephra Rubin

I am slightly dyslexic and have a difficulty with writing. It's because of this that I try to write as much as I can. Lately my writing has improved quite a bit and it's thanks to everyone who reads and posts on my blog. Sometimes it is difficult for me to post as regularly as others do since everything requires a lot of rewrites. Subscribe to my blog so you always know when I've got something new up. Thanks in advance.
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