The House of Belonging

Sharing a poem that has helped as I establish my "new normal."

The Thrive Global Community welcomes voices from many spheres on our open platform. We publish pieces as written by outside contributors with a wide range of opinions, which don’t necessarily reflect our own. Community stories are not commissioned by our editorial team and must meet our guidelines prior to being published.

Out here in California this week is our third week of the state’s ’stay at home’ directive. I am finally finding a bit of structure in my day to day activities. My work has been impacted and postponed for several months so I now have time for taking better care of me. My last blog “What You Mutter Matter,” was about the impact of words and how one word can change your feelings and reactions.

Today I want to offer a poem. I’ve been selecting a different poem every day to read to connect me with another world and another’s view. This poem by David Whyte was presented to me and I found comfort in The House of Belonging. I hope you do too.

I awoke
this morning
in the gold light
turning this way
and that

thinking for
a moment
it was one
like any other

the veil had gone
from my
darkened heart
I thought

it must have been
the first
easy rhythm
with which I breathed
myself to sleep.

It must have been
the prayer I said
speaking to the otherness
of the night.

I thought
this is the good day
you could
meet your love,

this is the black day
someone close
to you could die.
This is the day
you realize
how easily the thread
is broken
between this world
and the next

and I found myself
sitting up
in the quiet pathway
of light,

the tawny
close-grained cedar
burning round
me like fire
and all the angels of this housely
heaven ascending
through the first
roof of light
the sun has made.

This is the bright home
is which I live,
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.

This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.

There is no house
like the house of belonging.
Photo and poem by David Whyte

Written by Pat Obuchowski

Share your comments below. Please read our commenting guidelines before posting. If you have a concern about a comment, report it here.

You might also like...


Poetry, Pain, & Wholeness

by Nadia Colburn
Meadowlands by Louise Gluck

Book Review: Meadowlands by Louise Gluck

by Mahvash Mossaed

Catching Joy by the Tail in a Pandemic

by Lisa Bennett
We use cookies on our site to give you the best experience possible. By continuing to browse the site, you agree to this use. For more information on how we use cookies, see our Privacy Policy.