Where are you going?
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Have you ever had the thought, Get me the F$#*!#$* out of here?
—I mean, literally, off this planet? I bet most people have. A quick exit. Do I mean death? Maybe. Do I want that? Not really. (Please Note: If you are having thoughts you might act on, please seek professional support.)
If you’ve had these thoughts, you’re not alone. And while we might think of escape as physical, the greatest release isn’t about leaving; it’s about recognizing—the death of the story we tell ourselves about who we think we are. That recognition, in itself, takes you home.
And yet, sometimes, we just want to escape. To where?
Here’s the thing, as you’ve probably heard before: Wherever you go, there you are.
What if the answer isn't in escaping, but in relaxing and feeling into where you already are? This is where meditation and yoga offer a way to gain familiarity with the natural state of being and a permanent exit into ease. Even amidst the wildness of now, they help us access something unwavering. Within each of us resides a soothing, warm, settled, and intelligent energy—nature’s own wisdom. It’s home, yet it has no fixed location.
Does that sound idealistic? Unrealistic? I get it. It’s true—I know it from my own conviction and from the wisdom teachings of the East, passed down for millennia by countless sublime beings. It’s not about thinking—it’s about feeling.
K.I.S.S.—Keep it Simple, Sweetheart.
No where to get to and nothing to get.
Keep Meditating.
Keep Practicing.
Do Yoga.
Walk in Nature.
This yearning—for home, escape, or belonging—reminds me of a conversation with my Grandfather. His simple words carried a profound truth that struck deep.
STORY: WISDOM FROM THE PRYORS
“Why don’t you move out there?” my Grandpa asked, his hand resting lightly on his knee, a subtle gesture that nudged me toward the vast landscape of the Crow Indian Reservation in Montana. He sat across from me, his sapphire blue eyes holding my gaze with a quiet intensity. I revered this man; his words were few but always carried a weight and wisdom that made you feel seen, pushed to your real edge, and fully accountable.
“It’s too far away,” I remember saying, referring to the wheat fields that stretched endlessly against the rolling hills, ominous mountains, and the great big sky of big sky country. In that quiet expanse, the wind seemed to shuffle through the fields just to remind you how alone you were, yet it also held you in its sound—there is a den in your ear that reflects something about you. As a child and young adult, I couldn’t see it for what it was; I only felt the sigh and boredom of its distance and vacancy.
He held my gaze. Then came his simple yet pithy question: “Too far away from what?”
Boom. There it was—a truth I wasn’t ready for but appreciated hearing. At that moment, I felt it resonate within me—so obviously right, yet I just couldn’t do it. Now, years later, I see it even more clearly: that land—so far from what I thought mattered—wasn’t distant from anything significant. Instead, it was closer to something that had always been there, waiting—the quiet, the stillness, and the felt sense and presence of real home. Not a physical structure but the home that resides within us—always present within our thoughts, feelings, emotions, as well as life’s distractions and external noise.
His words weren’t about the land; they were about the distance I had placed between myself and what I may have needed in some way or needed to understand at least. Today, I revere that quiet no matter where I am and wonder if I could live there now. I don’t think so, reason? Nature is everywhere regardless and it’s time to be with more people and to interact, engage and give.
Maybe that’s the real question: What are we running toward? Where are we going? And what are we running from? The only thing that ever can seem too far away is the realization that we’re already home—complete and fulfilled.
So, what about you? Where do you feel most at home, and how might that be closer than you think?
These reflections don’t just stay in the realm of ideas—they show up in how we live and practice daily. Here are ways to bring these insights into your own life.
Body – Finding Ease
Yoga: Create a home practice—10–15 minutes a day of movement that nurtures you. This month, I created a short yoga video to support you in finding home within your body and mind. Try it and let me know what you think.
Breathe: Try full diaphragmatic breathing from the core of your pelvis. Pause briefly at the top of your inhale, then extend your exhale, engaging your low abs to empty fully.
Mind – Settling Awareness
Dzogchen Practices: Take intentional moments of rest throughout your day. Allow yourself to feel, think, and relax fully. Rely on your inherent power to know.
Seated Meditation: Morning meditation reveals continual gems. Keep showing up for it.
Environment – Coming Back to Nature
Walk in Nature: There’s nothing like fresh air to reset the mind and body.
Your support—whether it’s sharing this newsletter, subscribing on Substack, or offering feedback—means the world. It helps me keep creating and sharing with you.
P.S. On Substack, I’ll be exploring how the realm of dreams and sleep offers rest, clarity, and familiarity with the settled, natural state of ease and home. These nighttime experiences reflect our waking state, carrying guidance and messages that connect us to the energy of nature as our truest essence. I’d love for you to join this exploration.
Wishing you much love and ease as we enter December.
Love,
Chey