The Winds of Homecoming

Oh, not to be separated, shut off from the starry dimension
By so thin a wall.
What is within us
If not intensified sky
Traversed with birds
And deep
With the winds of homecoming?

—Rainer Maria Rilke, Uncollected Poems, translated by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows

It never ceases to amaze me how simply approaching yoga as a practice of homecoming can soften edges I didn't even know were holding me separate and small.

These invisible walls—woven from daily stresses, old patterns, and the weight of constant doing—seem to dissolve the moment we shift our perspective and turn inward.

Life has a way of narrowing our sense of self. The demands of work, relationships, and survival can gradually close us off from the expansiveness of our truest essence. We forget the “starry dimension” Rilke speaks of—that vast, luminous space within that connects us to something infinitely larger than our individual concerns.

How wonderful, then, to remember that yoga offers a pathway back to this deeper truth. Each time you practice with this awareness, you're not just moving through poses or following your breath—you're returning to your most authentic identity. You're coming home to a place of freedom, serenity, and possibility that has always been there, just beneath the surface of the mind’s chatter.

Consider how your awareness itself becomes one of those "winds of homecoming" that Rilke describes. As you settle into stillness and feel the rhythm of the breath, something essential begins to stir—an abiding presence that feels both intimate and immense. This is where you remember you are so much more than the stories you tell yourself about who you are or what you lack.

Your practice becomes a gentle but powerful reminder of your fundamental belonging. You are not a separate, isolated being struggling alone in an indifferent world, but an integral thread in a wondrous tapestry. Each breath connects you to the air that has sustained countless beings before you. Each moment of presence opens you to the eternal now that underlies all experience.

In this recognition, you discover something miraculous: you carry the universe within you. The same intelligence that moves the stars and turns the seasons pulses through your own heart. The same creative force that brings spring flowers into bloom flows through your own capacity for growth and evolution.

This is the gift of yoga as homecoming—not as an escape from life's complexity, but as a return to the strength, wisdom, and love that live at your core. When you remember this, you discover that everything you need to meet each moment with clarity and courage has been with you all along.