Come Home

An excerpt:

You have heard this statement, “Welcome home.” You don’t know what it means. You have no idea what “Welcome home” means. But I know something that does. And it’s that drop.

In its separation, it’ll do so much, for so many! And in its journey, it will transform, and it’ll transform, and somewhere it will fall. And it’ll give birth to a seed. Because that’s what the seed was waiting for.

Somewhere, it will fall. And it will become a snowflake and be trapped like a glacier. And even though it’s trapped, its desire to march towards the ocean is unabated. And glacier, even though it looks solid, it moves.

And you see the glaciers—just, the big sheets, big pieces just fall off that glacier, and bob into the ocean. And just a few hours later, there’s no trace of the snow or the ice. Once again, the drop has come home. It’s come home. The rain will come, fall on the ocean. And it’ll make the most magnificent of a shape, and dive right back. “Welcome home.” That’s it.

If you’re a drop, you need to come home. Somewhere in that journey of that drop, it will become the juice inside a mango. But its desire, its want to meet with the ocean still remains unabated.

That water, that drop knows the trick of purity. Purity. It knows ... the ultimate trick of abandoning all that, shedding everything else away, and being pure. And then, there is the grand river that flows, and nothing, nothing but those drops. And then when they meet the ocean, “Ah-hoo!”—content to merge again.

You need to do this. I’m not talking about death—don’t go there. I’m talking about the drop coming home while it’s still alive—while it is still alive. While it is still alive.

Come home. Come home. Come home ... to the joy that’s your home. Come home to that clarity; that’s your home. Come home to peace. That is your home. Come home. Don’t forget your passion. What is your passion? As a drop, your passion is to merge with that ocean again. That’s your passion!