I Was Never Lost
There was a time
I searched for a purpose
as if it were misplaced—
as if it had wandered off
and required urgency to be found.
I moved quickly then.
Decisively.
Almost vigilant in my pursuit
of something I could not name
but felt responsible for discovering.
Now I understand—the
purpose does not respond to urgency.
It responds to stillness.
It revealed itself to me
not in noise,
but in nature.
In the quiet dignity of trees
that do not rush their becoming.
In water that moves—fluid, certain—
without asking for permission
or proof.
Nature is an astute teacher.
She does not explain herself.
She does not compete.
She does not perform.
She is.
And in witnessing her,
I began—slowly, honestly—
to return to myself.
Ritual followed.
Not elaborate.
Not excessive.
But intentional.
A candle lit without spectacle.
A breath taken with awareness.
A pause—sacred, uninterrupted—
before the world could interfere.
Healing, I learned,
is not always loud.
Sometimes it is subtle.
Sometimes it is steadfast.
Sometimes it is the quiet decision
to choose peace
when chaos feels more familiar.
And then—community.
Not the crowded rooms
where presence is performative,
where connection is conditional.
But the rare, vital kind—
where you are witnessed
without being reshaped.
Where your softness is not questioned.
Where your truth is not negotiated.
There is something profoundly healing
about being seen
and left intact.
Purpose lives there.
Not as something distant,
not as something elusive,
but as something already present—
woven into the ordinary,
resting quietly
in the moments we often overlook.
There is humor in this, of course.
How I once chased purpose
like it owed me something—
when all along,
It was patient, composed,
slightly amused—
waiting for me
to stop performing
and arrive.
Now, I move differently.
With intention.
With clarity.
With a quiet, unwavering knowing
that does not require validation.
I stand in nature,
and it remembers my name.
I return to ritual
and remember my breath.
I sit in community
and remember I am held.
And in that remembering—
Purpose is no longer something I seek.
It is something I embody.
Because the real victory
was never in the search.
It is in alignment.
The peace.
The grounded, steadfast truth that says:
I was never lost.
I was becoming.
Sherley Delia
