Opinion

Deep-rooted Soul Anchor

Home base. Everyone needs one. Even when I’m travelling with wings of steel across the landscapes speckled with the dust of a thousand stationary homes, I feel myself anchored deep within the hills of hope residing in my soul.

Michele Savaunah Zirkle
Special Contributor

Home base is more than a place on a map, more than a brick and mortar structure. Home base is my very essence and the adventurer in me finds comfort in that. I feel as much at home on the road as I do in the sky because my soul home doesn’t change as often as the view in my rearview mirror. 

Whether Flying or driving, I enjoy the feeling of progress while sitting and sipping my coffee—movement with minimal effort. Trekking across country from the comfort of my seat, tickles me more than a wispy ocean breeze breathing down my neck.

But if physical effort is required to reap the benefit of my latest journey, I’m up for that too.  Just strapping on my new hiking boots gives me an endorphin rush. I relish breaking into a sweaty jog on a curious path and hitting a hot yoga class full of unfamiliar faces.

I feel as “at home,” landing at my favorite airport in Phoenix or strolling through a small-town diner in Colorado as I do writing in my PJ’s at home.  The flame from Panera’s fireplace inspires me just as much as the flames dancing inside my own hearth, but the flame that burns brighter than any other—the heat that ignites a thousand sparks of inspiration—is my soul light burning behind my belly.

This light is home. It goes where I go. This light burns pride and prejudice. It melts fears and dries tears. Above all, the energy from this light turns seeds of hope into manifestations of creativity and rekindles passion for continuing on my path no matter how challenging it becomes.

This light shines before me and illuminates shadows from the darkest forests bursting with the tallest of Redwood trees and encourages me to step into the territory of the unknown.  Even when the Earth cracks beneath my feet and the whole world seems to shake and rattle me to my core, my anchor is securely connected to the source of the Infinite’s light dwelling within me.

This light shines uniquely in the soul of every man. This light is inextinguishable—even death can’t blow it out.

Sometimes; however, it dims and I run into walls. I get writer’s block or stumble into a lion’s den of karma, but getting disoriented in the dark is a natural consequence of traveling as any well-seasoned traveler knows.

I sometimes literally hit nose to drywall while trying to find the bathroom when I forget in which family member’s home or in which hotel I’ve lain my head the night before. Just the other night I mistook the sound of the furnace at my sisters for the treadmill at the bed and breakfast. I typically get my bearings quickly, and thus far haven’t mistaken a desk chair for the commode. Lucky me. Lucky hosts.

When I feel discombobulated, I simply connect to my soul light and feel comforted knowing I am home wherever I am. This light is not a part of me. It is me—the very essence of the Divine.

I will continue to breathe in new adventures knowing I am anchored to the source of my very breath and need not worry when a storm strikes and threatens to blow me off-course.

Even if I have to hike miles in the mud to see the magnificent waterfall in Hawaii or skate on ice to reach the snow-covered bungalow, I’m confident the arrangements are first class all the way. I have connections, after all—the most elite of connections to the master travel agent in the sky.  Now, what are you waiting for—the trip of your life awaits!





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