Return of the Prodigal

Journey Home

“Unraveling external selves and coming home to our real identity is the true meaning of soul work.”
Sue Monk Kidd

Leaving home is an archetypal journey. Some of us never leave, and feel no need to discover life outside our ancestral birthplace. Such was not the case for me. High school graduation was akin to the collapse of the Berlin Wall. I fled with nary a backward glance. Much like the Prodigal Son, I went to a foreign country (California) which was as far away as I could go in an old, black Chevy Bel Air. For me, leaving home was not simply a desire to see the world; it was a rejection of all that had come before—everything that Appalachia symbolized in the 1960's.

Leaving home is a necessary passage. Like Odysseus, we launch out to confront our own demons, and fight our own wars. In the best of all worlds, we have a north star to guide us, make many mistakes from which we learn, and find a way of life that suits our true nature. But like Odysseus, we may become trapped by the alluring and unexpected and linger longer than we should. Leaving home educates us to the fact that not everyone sees the world as we do, and that their values and beliefs are just as valid as our own.

Jesus made this passage himself during his time in the desert after his baptism. The tempter came and offered him the gifts of the world. He was challenged to prove his worthiness by exercising super-natural powers—turn these stones into bread, throw yourself down from the temple and angels will save you. He was offered the kingdoms of the world with all their riches—all he had to do was sell his soul. The world’s love is always conditional. If you are white, good looking, intelligent, wealthy, if you have a good education, a good job and the right connections, if you produce much, sell much, and buy much, then you are worthy of the world’s love. When you run out of luck, your star is tarnished and you no longer shine. The world does not love a tarnished star.

We are all prodigal children each time we search for love where it cannot be found. The voice that calls us into the world would have us forget the voice that assures us, “You are my beloved, in whom I am well pleased.” At some point, we must ask ourselves this question: “To whom do I belong—to the Source of love, or to the world?” Waking up to the understanding that the world cannot give us what we seek is usually the point at which we turn for home.

Hopefully, the journey teaches us to forgive ourselves for the mistakes we’ve made, and the absurdities we committed while out there in the world. We may also forgive and accept those who gave us birth. Coming home is acknowledging that we remember who we are, and to whom we belong. We return with new eyes and expanded consciousness. This new consciousness is the home that's been waiting for us all along.

In the Spirit,
Jane