Lost Boys and Girls: Dreaming the Soul Back Home
Welcome to Treehouse Treasures and The Tree of Serendipity. I'm so happy you're here.
This morning, before sunrise, I experienced one of those quiet, luminous moments where something deeper seems to be guiding the way.
A book quite literally fell into my hands — Dreaming the Soul Back Home by Robert Moss — and opened to a passage exploring the idea of “lost parts” of the self.
While the language in the book draws from shamanic traditions (including concepts like soul retrieval), what struck me most was something far more universal and grounded:
There are parts of ourselves we may have left behind.
Not because they are broken — but because life moved quickly, or something painful occurred, or we simply outgrew the context in which they once lived.
And yet… these parts may still exist within us — or within our imagination, memory, and felt sense — waiting to be re‑engaged.
The exercise Moss offers is simple but powerful:
“Where is the rest of me?”
When asked gently, without force, this question can begin to reveal images, memories, and longings — aspects of ourselves that may have been set aside.
For me, this connected deeply with something I’ve been experiencing lately.
When I soften my gaze toward the horizon — whether in nature or within my own awareness — I feel a sense of coherence. A quiet knowing that nothing is truly missing.
At the same time, I’ve been painting a horse — Palomino — and exploring themes of movement, breath, and spirit. I even felt inspired to incorporate subtle musical elements into the background of the painting.
Then, in Moss’s writing, I encountered the idea of celestial musicians — Gandharvas — sometimes described as part horse and part singer.
It felt less like coincidence… and more like confirmation.
That sound, creativity, and presence are not just expressions — but pathways.
Perhaps we don’t need to go searching for lost parts of ourselves.
Perhaps we simply need to become more present… more resonant… more available to beauty.
And in that state, what belongs to us begins to return.
Gently.
Naturally.
Without force.
If you feel called, you might explore this for yourself:
Ask: Where is the rest of me?
Notice what arises without judgment
Choose one small way to reconnect with that aspect (a walk, a song, a creative act)
There is no need to believe anything in particular.
Only to listen.
And to allow.
Because what if nothing in us is ever truly lost — only waiting in a more beautiful place, until we become resonant enough to meet it there?
Thank you for listening today... May your day be filled with peace and joy!
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti!
