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If you’re tired or beaten down, take a break from reaching outward and upward. Go inside and draw down. Pull nourishment up from the roots that live in your quiet underground space.
A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother. -Herman Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
-J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring