The cycle of returning to the source echoes throughout both nature and our lives. It’s a rhythm woven into the fabric of existence—on grand scales, at the level of physics, and within our personal experiences.
In nature, we see it clearly on the macro scale: a salmon instinctively swims back to its spawning grounds, a seed falls to the earth from the very tree that bore it, all rivers eventually find their way back to the sea, and at the end of their life when a sun collapses inward to their originating center. These are not mere coincidences—they are expressions of a deeper, universal pattern.
This pattern is also at play in the fundamental laws of physics, particularly in the realm of momentum. Consider the sensation just before a plane takes off. You’re seated calmly, and as the aircraft begins its rapid acceleration, your body resists the forward motion (which is also why you feel the seat pushing against your back). In that moment, it’s as though the laws of physics are gently urging you back to your original point of rest.
The momentum you feel is nature’s way of honoring your place of origin.
The same principle is what keeps a spinning top upright. Thanks to angular momentum, a spinning top resists any change to the direction of its axis. When disturbed, it doesn’t simply tip over—instead, it works to return to its original orientation. It’s as if the top remembers its equilibrium and strives to return to it.
Recognizing this pattern in your own life can be deeply comforting. Each time a memory is pulled back into consciousness, return to your bed at night, or feel drawn back to your hometown, you’re experiencing the same rhythm that guides the cosmos.
So the next time you feel that gentle tug back—to a place, a thought, or a feeling—cherish it. It’s a reminder that the rhythm of returning to the source is not only universal but deeply personal, resonating through every level of existence, including your own.