We know the ways of the old country, its good and bad, happy and sad moments.

I spent most of my days there.

Even thought we might not have found what we were looking for,

not fulfilled our heart’s desires, we remain attached to it.

The old country is a part of us, our bones, our blood, our souls.

Now is perhaps the time to realize that if we wish to be complete,

we must all leave the old country, and enter the new one,

where our own individual Beloved dwells.

What guided and shapedthe old country no longer works,

I see it so clearly.

So I let go of what was always so precious to me:

money, glory, recognition, success. And panic.

It took a long time to enter the new country.

For years I kept crossing and recrossing the border.

In the old country, I was frightened ad dissatisfied.

In the new country I felt afraid and longed

for all I had missed,

given up, left behind, feared.

But I found that the old country had lost its charm,

and power for me.

It no longer had meaning, no longer made sense.

I  could not fit in.

I took the risk, I stepped more deeply into the new country,

I left the border far behind me,

until I could no longer hear the cries of the angry the wounded,

the  hypocritical, the aggrieved and the greedy.

Each time I entered the new country,

I learned what it is to feel safe, to feel strong,

to feel free. 

I stayed longer and longer.

I learned who I was. I learned what love is

and what it means.

I found so many my heart’s desires

in this new world,

I feel whole and fulfilled.

I can never go back.

I have entered the new country.

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Thanks to the writer Henri Nouwen, for inspiring this poem through his wonderful essays.