All of Life is a coming home

All of life is a coming home. All the restless hearts of the world, trying to find a way to go home.
It's hard to describe how I felt like then. Picture yourself walking for days in a driving snow, You don't even know you're walking in circles- the heaviness of your legs in the drifts: your shouts disappearing into the wind. How small you can feel. How far away home can be.

Home. The dictionary defines it as both a place of origin and a goal or destination. The storm? The storm was all in my mind. Or, as the poet Dante put it:

"Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost."

Eventually I would find the right path, but in the most unlikely place.