Getting Home

In a world where anger and rage often become our first response, imagine if we had the power not to let someone outside of us pull us out of peace — not to hand over our energy, not to let a single moment dictate the rhythm of our entire day. Imagine if others didn’t have the power to trigger the storm within us — that place where frustration, judgment, and fury churn deep in the body, stored in the muscles, bones, and fascia like hidden tension waiting to erupt.

Energy is everything. Frequency, vibration — they are the language of the universe, the pulse of our being. Every thought, every reaction either nourishes our health or drains our light. When we respond with lower vibrations — anger, resentment, bitterness — we tighten the walls around our own spirit. We build invisible prisons out of reactions that harm no one more than ourselves.

What if, instead, we learned to laugh lightly at what once made us angry — a wrong food order, a reckless driver, a family member’s sharp tone, or that neighbor who always seems to test our patience? What if we simply refused to give them the power to ruin our day? This is not denial — it’s mastery. It’s raising the bar on how we meet the world.

It’s said that violence and anger always rebound upon themselves. The energy we emit is the energy we receive. When we spew rage, the universe mirrors it back. When we radiate calm, gratitude, or humor — that’s what multiplies. We always get to choose the frequency we broadcast.

My son recently sent me a video of an Uber driver who’d just been cut off in traffic. Instead of shouting or leaning on his horn, he laughed with his passenger — pure joy and grace in motion. The reaction urged: “Raise the bar.” He understood something profound — that every time we’re triggered by something outside of us, we hand over our peace, our power, and the possibility of a good day.

His final words lingered with me: “Fifty percent of road fatalities happen because of road rage. What if we just let people get home?”

That struck something deep. Because that’s what we’re all trying to do, in our own ways — just get home. Home to peace. Home to love. Home to our center.

May we each find a way, every day, to return to that sacred home within — where calm lives, where clarity blooms, and where no one outside of us holds the key to our joy.

Here’s to getting home.