THE UNSPEAKABLE JOY OF COMING HOME

In a world that never stops moving, where even the spiritual search can become a subtle form of striving, there is something profoundly radical about slowing down. Not merely a physical slowing, but a deep inner relaxation. A letting go of the effort to reach, to attain, to fix, to become.

This kind of slowing down asks more of us than discipline or willpower—it asks for surrender. And when there is enough surrender, something begins to shift. We start to fall inward. Not toward any destination, not to arrive somewhere more spiritual, more enlightened, or more healed—but simply to fall into the heart of this moment without needing to land.

Eventually, we just stop.

Not because we’ve figured it out. Not because we’ve arrived at some grand conclusion. But because the endless effort simply exhausts itself. The seeking collapses. The defenses soften. The inner engine of becoming runs out of steam. And in that stopping, something remarkable happens.

There is a subtle, luminous intimacy with life that begins to reveal itself. It’s not produced or imagined—it emerges of its own accord when the noise quiets and the grasping ends. You begin to feel merged with existence, not in some mystical escape from life, but in the ordinary miracle of being. The lines between inner and outer blur, and what’s left is a natural communion with all that is.

This is peace—not as an achievement, but as a return. A homecoming to the truth that was always here. Simple, silent, unadorned.

And in that homecoming, there is joy. Not the ecstatic kind that comes and goes, but an unspeakable joy that arises from the recognition that nothing was ever missing. That life itself, just as it is, was always enough.

To stop is to return home.

And what a sacred joy that is.

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Slow down, relax all effort, fall inside without landing anywhere
With enough surrender eventually you just stop
And in that stop all is revealed, an intimacy with existence, a merging with all that is,
And the simplicity of peace,
What unspeakable joy it is to return home.

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Oh the smallness of the me
Separate and trapped
And the vastness of I
Dissolved into everything.

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My lover and I
Spin our love webs
Across the universe
Our ecstatic patterns
There for all to see
After a while of this
Everything becomes love’s tapestry. 

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Meet this day empty
Don’t just carry yesterday’s bags
Into this fresh moment
Eventually you will become so weary
This empty meeting is all you need
Allow life to whisper its secrets
Into the bowl of your silence
It will cleanse you
And from this will arise your innate knowing
Your clear seeing
And your love.

Let the wind pass through you
Let sorrow dissolve in stillness
Do not grip, do not chase—
Even truth need not be held.
Be the open window
Through which existence breathes
And sings itself awake
In your heart.

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Sometimes the only medicine we need is the truth
And sometimes it may be an unconditional love.
And if we are able to allow either of those in—
into the guarded places within—
then both medicines
can begin their quiet work of healing.

Thanks for reading.