Monday, 10 August 2026

The Odyssey: Xenia and the Art of Hospitality



In the last piece we explored Homer’s “The Odyssey” looking specifically at Odysseus’ journey home, his “Nostos”. Today I am exploring another central theme of the epic poem, this being “Xenia” or “Philoxenia”. What in Christopher Nolan’s recent blockbuster film based on “The Odyssey” is referred to as “Zeus’ Law”. “Xenia” has been translated to mean “guest friendship” or “Love of a stranger”.

We will explore Xenia’s parallels with other traditions, an example being hospitality in the Abrahamic ones. We will also explore ways to be both a good host and a good guest. Ways in which we may bring the spirit of Xenia alive in our current time and place.

In ancient Greece the concept of “Xenia” or “guest friendship” was something that a “virtuous person” would be expected to cultivate. It was developed from the ancient’s belief that gods visited humans and thus any guest may well be a god in disguise. One example found in “The Odyssey” is there right at the beginning of the epic, when Athena visits Odysseus’s son, Telemachus. Athena first appeared as Mentes, a family friend, and later as Mentor to encourage the young prince to search for his missing father. When Odysseus finally returns to Ithaca, Athena repeatedly visits him, altering his appearance into an old beggar so he can safely plan his revenge against the arrogant suitors. Another example would be Hermes being sent by Zeus to visit the nymph Calypso on her island to command her to release Odysseus, and later visits Odysseus himself to warn him about the witch.

You can see Xenia thread through “The Odyssey”. Virtually every encounter manifest as a test of it. There good and bad examples of being both a good host and guest. Examples of good hosts would be Nestor, Menelaus, the Phaeacians, as well as the swineherd Eumaeus. They welcome strangers with food, shelter, and gifts before they ask who they are. Their generosity reflects both good character and respect for Zeus Xenios, the protector of guests.

Now bad hosts and bad guests face consequences. The Cyclops Polyphemus rejects Xenia by imprisoning and eating his visitors, while the “Suitors” in Odysseus' palace abuse his hospitality by consuming his food, disrespecting his household, and plotting against his son.

The “Suitors” repeated violations of Xenia ultimately lead to their downfall when Odysseus returns and reclaims his home. Throughout the epic, Homer presents hospitality not as simple politeness, but as one of the foundations of a just and civilized society. It is painting an ideal by which a virtuous person ought to live. The obligation though is not just for the host, but also the guest, the visitor have their obligations too. In “The Odyssey” Xenia acts as the moral bedrock and a crucial testing ground for civilization. Xenia is understood as a sacred duty that holds civilization together.

King Alcinous and Queen Arete (The Phaeacians), portray the Xenia ideal. They welcome Odysseus when he washes ashore broken and nameless, feeding him, bathing him, and offering safe passage home before ever asking his identity. They embody the purest form of spiritual grace and civilized duty. Another example would be Nestor and Peisistratos. Odysseus son Telemachus visits Pylos, where Nestor’s son immediately offers a seat at the feast and ritual hospitality, acting as a mentoring ritual for Telemachus to learn the noble codes of the Greek world. These are the embodiment of perfect examples of Xenia being offered by the host.

Now a classic example of Xenia not being followed would be that of Polyphemus the Cyclops. The “Mythologist Joseph Campbell saw the Cyclops as the ultimate spiritual trap of raw, lawless force and ego. Polyphemus rejects the gods and the sacred laws of Xenia by immediately asking who Odysseus is in a hostile manner and instead of offering a guest-gift, he traps and eats the men. Not what you want from a host.

An example of guests not fulfilling their Xenia obligation would be the suitors in Ithaka. They occupy Odysseus’s home, consume his livestock and abuse his home. Again as Joseph Campbell highlighted “the suitors” represent an archetypal social decay and "xenia gone bad" that demands a violent reckoning.

You can find parallels to Xenia within many of the great religious traditions. Here is an example from Christianity, found in the book of Hebrews chapter 13 v2. 2Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. Who is showing hospitality to these strangers in our very midst?”

Showing hospitality and caring for the vulnerable in society is a key aspect of the Judeo - Christian and Islamic traditions. You will find it deeply rooted in the Abrahamic faiths and virtually every other world religion too. Hospitality is an essential spiritual practice. It begins with an open heart and a generosity of spirit. It’s about recognising the good in life and in people, especially those in need. It’s about recognising ourselves in those very same people. It’s about being open and welcoming to all, wherever they have been, wherever they are going and wherever they find themselves now. Tibetan Buddhist monks great the strangers visiting their temples with “Welcome, friend, from what noble spiritual tradition do you come.” The Christian monastic tradition has a long held practise of taking in strangers and offering them sanctuary as if they were Christ, inspired by those very words from Hebrews. In so doing they are following the example of Jesus who mingled with all people, there was no one left outside the city gate, no untouchables. Hospitality to me seems to be the whole concept of “Kin-dom of Love” right here right now.

Sadly, our age has become characterised by distrust, there is a fear of the strange and the stranger. Hospitality is an antidote to this, to quote Joan Chittister “Hospitality is the way we come out of ourselves. It is the first step toward dismantling the barriers of the world. Hospitality is the way we turn a prejudiced world around one heart at a time.” The importance of welcoming the stranger is at the root of all the great faith traditions.

In ancient Greece the concept of “Xenia” or “guest friendship” was cultivated. Xenia came out of the ancients belief that gods visited humans and the fear that a guest may well be a god in disguise. You find similar stories in Middle-Eastern cultures also. One key story from Genesis is to key to the Abrahamic traditions. This story of Abraham’s guests has a moral to teach us all. The guests are revealed to be angels; in fact it is implied strongly that one may well be God himself. They tell the childless and aged Abraham and Sarah that they will have a son. They given the ultimate gift as a reward for showing hospitality to strangers in their land.

Being a gracious host is a primary requirement of Islam. The Qur’an 4. 36-37 reads:

“Be kind to parents.and near kins man, and to orphans, and to the needy, and to the neighbour who is of kin, and to the neighbour who is a stranger, and to the companion at your side, and to the traveller.”

Another classic example of duty to take care of the stranger is the parable of the “Good Samaritan” You may well recall that a Jewish man lay on the side of the road beaten bloody and dying. As he lay there a Jewish priest and an official of the temple both past him by and ignored him. Then a Samaritan came by, a despised enemy of the Israelites, and he looked after the man and paid for his shelter at a local inn. He welcomed the stranger. To me this is a classic example of Xenia in the Christian tradition.

Many of the great traditions have brought witnesses of light to humanity and they have often shone in the darkest of times. Many of the myths and folk tales talk of the importance of offering hospitality to the stranger. If we welcome the stranger without hope or reward, we will be rewarded way beyond our wildest dreams. This holds true, in my belief, whether or not they have supernatural powers. If we welcome the stranger, we will reap untold rewards. There is nothing new here, this is at the heart of “Xenia”, portrayed in the Odyssey.

It is not just about being a welcoming host though. To practice Xenia is also about being a good guest. At the heart of being a good guest is humility, think of Odysseys when he washes ashore at the Phaeacians. He accepts the help on offer and tells his story, he offers himself he recognises their interconnectedness, it is a grace filled encounter. In so doing he is fulfilling his Xenia, he is being a gracious guest.

It reminds me of the following contemporary piece “The Fine Art of the Good Guest” by Jeffrey Lockwood. It illustrates the importance of being a good guest and gratefully receiving what is on offer. Jeffrey Lockwood is suggesting that we should listen to what the host has to offer by graciously accepting his food or activities, however peculiar they may seem to us. This is Xenia and a wonderful example of it.

Here is Jeffrey’s offering.

“The Fine Art of the Good Guest” by Jeffrey Lockwood

The most important thing that I’ve learned in travelling to more than twenty countries is the art of being a guest. And I’m a particularly fine visitor at the supper table. I’ve consumed live fish in Inner Mongolia, not-quite-coagulated blood sausage on the Tibetan plateau, shredded pig’s ear in China, grilled lamb fat in Uzbekistan, horse steaks in Kazakhstan, vodka made from fermented mare’s milk in Siberia, vegemite in Australia, goat in Brazil, and snails in France. I don’t have an iron stomach, by any means, but I do have the will to be a virtuous visitor.

We are all visitors—even when we are home. Our time in any relationship or place is ultimately limited. We are passing through; nobody stays forever. How might we act if we consider ourselves guests in the lives of friends and family? Being a good guest is rather simple in principle but occasionally challenging in practice.

One begins by demanding nothing more than the bare elements of life and dignity, which every host is more than delighted to exceed. The good guest then simply allows the other person to be a good host—to share his gifts, to play her music, to tell his stories, to show her places, and to serve his foods. Finally, a guest should cultivate and express genuine gratitude. It need not be effusive or exorbitant, only sincere.

We might also think of ourselves as uninvited, but not unwelcome, guests of the planet. And I think the rules for being a good guest of the world are just the same: Ask little, accept what is offered, and give thanks.

I recently visited my mum and enjoyed some “Traditional Fish Chips”, cooked in “Beef Dripping”. I was chatting with a friend who is originally from Oxford and now lives in central Manchester. He told me about a “traditional fish chip shop found on Cross Street in the city. He mentioned sayings on the wall, one being a famous quotation by Milton Friedman stating, “There’s no such thing as a free lunch”. Suggesting there is a price to pay for everything. Personally, I have never found this to be true. I have received generosity and countless free meals throughout my life. I may not have acknowledged it at the time, but looking back so much has been given to me without any expectation of it being returned. I have of course given to others, even if it just my time throughout my life. The giving is not direct, paid back to those who gave to me, but indirect, it is for those in need. This to me is very much the spirit of Xenia.

Poet Philosopher David Whyte has spoken extensively of the abundance of free meals he has been given throughout his life. He says his life has been sustained by unexpected generosity, vulnerability, and the invisible help of strangers at crucial crossroads.

One powerfully and life changing example he often speaks of is when he survived a near fatal bout of dysentery in the Himalayas. He stumbled half dead into the home of Tibetan family he did not know. They took him in and nursed him with local provisions. They asked nothing in return. This was a life changing moment for Whyte, his life was never the same again and led to him feeding and nourishing the world with language and words. He moved from being a good guest to becoming a good host, in so doing he is fulfilling his Xenia.

This is exemplified in his poem “Loaves and Fishes”

“Loaves and Fishes” by David Whyte

This is not
the age of information.

This is not
the age of information.

Forget the news,
and the radio,
and the blurred screen.

This is the time of loaves
and fishes.

People are hungry,
and one good word is bread
for a thousand

Whyte’s philosophy suggests that our lives are not an isolated struggle, but a continuous, primal exchange where "one good word" or a shared meal acts as deep nourishment for the hungry. He views these gifts as reminders that we are fundamentally interconnected and that receiving grace gracefully is part of the conversational nature of life. To me this seems like a modern day embodiment of “Xenia”

“Xenia” begins by recognising that each encounter has divine potential within it. That we need to greet one another in such a way. This mutual reverence is portrayed beautifully in the following story, “The Strangers Gift”.

“The Strangers Gift”

There was once a village that had fallen on very hard times. The villages had once been very happy, and their community had been famous for its hospitality and friendliness, and the warmth with which it welcomed strangers.

But something had gone wrong in the village. People had begun to bicker with one another. Quarrels broke out for no apparent reason. Rivalry sprang up where once there had been friendship and trust. The chief of the village was very sad about this. He knew that the people would never be happy like this, but he could do nothing to restore the old times of harmony and peace. Strangers no longer wanted to visit the village. The people stopped caring for it. The village was falling into ruin.

But it happened that one day a stranger came by. He approached the village like one with a mission, as though he already knew what he would find there. And very soon, he met the village chief. He recognised the sad expression in his eyes, and the two were soon engaged in a serious conversation.

The village chief told the stranger about his feelings of despair, and his fears that soon the village would disintergarate. The stranger told the village chief that he might know a way to redeem the lost village, and restore it to a real community again.

“Tell me the secret,” The village chief begged the stranger.

“The secret is very simple,” the stranger said, by way of reply.

“The fact is, one of the villagers is actually the Messiah”

The village chief could hardly believe what he was hearing, yet the stranger had an air of authority about him that was irrefutable.

The stranger left, but the village chief couldn’t resist telling his closest friend what the stranger had told him. Soon the rumour ran through the village like wildfire.

“One of us is the Messiah! Can you believe it, somewhere, hidden among our number, the messiah is living.!”

Now deep down, the villagers were a godly folk who wanted things to be right in their community. The thought that the Messiah himself might be living among them, incognito, made them see things very differently. Could it be the baker? They wondered. Or the postman? Or the old lady who breeds chickens and sells eggs? Perhaps its old granny Riley, whom the children were in the habit of taunting because of her scarred old face. The speculation went on and on.

But the strange thing was that, after the stranger’s visit, things were never the same again. People began to treat each other with reverence. They lived like people who had a common purpose, and who were seeking for something very precious together, never quite knowing whether the treasure was actually right in front of them.

Before long, visitors began to come to the village, just to be part of the happy, holy atmosphere that prevailed there. The stranger never came back. He didn’t need to.

The stranger brought the greatest gift that the people of the village could have wished for, he taught them how to learn to revere one another. That the divine was in some sense in all of them and that if they cared and nurtured one another, as it did. Now of course he tricked them into this in some sense, but would they have listened if he’s just told them to do this?

But then isn’t that how the great stories work. They tell us one thing which often leads to something far more wonderful than could ever have imagined. Something that is found throughout “The Odyssey”.

“The Odyssey” is an ancient tale. It may seem far away and far fetched, but there at the heart is a universal message teaching how we should be with another. That we ought o treat each other as if we were Divine, with love honour and respect, to welcome the stranger as a friend, we just don’t yet know.

May we see in the face of our neighbour, who we do not know, the divine light that is in all things. May we both give and receive Xenia in all that we feel, all that we think, all that we say and all that we do.

Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "Blogspot"




Monday, 3 August 2026

The Odyssey: A Journey of Nostalgia


Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey”, is this summer’s blockbuster movie. Have you seen it. It is an ancient tale that has been told many times. It is a story told in poetic form and certainly not easy to recreate in any media, least of all the cinema. Even the written form we have translated today is probably not as it was originally told, as it was not written down in the time. Much like so much of these ancient tales, including the books of the Bible.


Nolan’s film has received rave reviews, but also criticism. Some have said that it is not historically accurate, although it is closer to the text than other adaptations and certainly some other so called historical tales. I will explore some of the themes here and will continue to explore what might be the central theme in the next video devotion, what is sometimes called “Zeus’ Law” or the concept of “Xenia” or “Philoxenia”. This is translated as “guest friendship” or “love of a stranger” and perhaps other spiritual themes.

“The Odyssey” is not history, it is mythology. It is taking us on a journey to reveal universal truth. A long and arduous journey, that for Odysseus took 10 years to finally get home. The journey from Troy, that is now in what is Northern Turkey, to the Island of Ithaka west of Northern Greece, should have taken only a few weeks. This journey like all journey’s was not a straight line and it is littered with mistakes and hopefully lessons. It was Odysseus pride in defeating the cyclops, that led to him being cursed by Poseidon, which caused many of his troubles. He had left Troy high on victory, returning a hero, full of Pride and Hubris. The clever hero. This was not the man who finally reached Ithaka 10 years later having lost all his men and lost everything, well except for this vision of home.

“The Odyssey” reminds me somewhat of Moses and the Israelites journeying towards the Promised Land, a journey that took 40 years (Meaning a lifetime), should have taken a matter of months. Now this was not a journey home, but for a new home. Odysseus just wanted to get home, much like the character played by Michael Douglas in “Falling Down”, or Steve Martin in “Planes, Trains and Automobiles”. Like so many other tales, ancient and modern. The Odyssey is the archetype for most of the stories told. It might be the original “Heroes Journey” depicted by Joseph Campbell.

“The Odyssey” is a tale told in poetic form. Here is a wonderful poem inspired by it, depicting the journey home. It offers a meaning at the heart of the ancient journey. One that may not be about the final goal, the ends that draw us out. Instead it is about the means by which we journey. It is an allegory of the beautiful journey.

“Ithaka”, by C. P. Cafavy

As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.

Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you’re seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind—
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But don’t hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn’t have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you’ll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

“The Odyssey” is an archetype for the human journey, the call to adventure. Other examples might be Pilgrims Progress, Gulliver’s Travels, The Wizard of Oz, Jack and the Beanstalk, The Lord of the Rings the list goes on and on. Humanity’s canon is littered with folk tales and myths which teach us about this call to adventure, about the potential for both beauty and horror that is life.

Joseph Campbell spent years exploring these myths and stories believing that they possessed universal qualities that could help us understand how so often life calls us out to adventure, often at the least expected of moments.

Campbell identified four distinct stages of the journey. The first stage he named as “The Call to Adventure”. This he claimed is caused by discontent, which draws us out of the comfort of our lives to risk something new. For Odysseus it was the call for home after 10 years at war with Troy. The second he described as an initiation, where ordeals are faced that test someone’s mental and physical skills, you see Odysseus’ great skill and wit overcoming troubles and then his arrogance and hubris creating his troubles. The third stage is the time of revelation the discovery of truth and treasure. The truth for Odysseus is that he is humbled by his return home, he is stripped of his vainglory and has to rely on hospitality, he returns an old beggar man. The final stage is the return to one’s community, with wisdom gained and with treasure to share. This is Odysseus return home, back with family a different man, with stories to share. Here he fulfils his Nostos.

On our journeys through life there will be many obstacles that we meet along the way. No one’s life is a perfect smooth ride and I do not for one minute believe that it is meant to be this way. Life throws many obstacles at us that can blow us of course. The key is not to allow these troubles to rule or lives and to maintain the faith in life itself, that we will be able find the courage to come through the storms. There is also another key too, don’t carry your own monsters with you, just deal with what is there in front of you. I think one of lessons of “The Odyssey” is that most of the troubles were self created. Yes some were created by the God’s, but not all and even those were in response to Odysseus mistakes. In fact Odysseus was general favoured by the God’s, it is only Poseidon who turned against him, in his rage for blinding his son, the Cyclops Polyphemus. That said despite these very troubles what we have is the beautiful journey of life. As the end of the poem Ithaca reminds us...

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithaca means.

No one knows what the future holds it truly is unwritten, but we need not fear it. We do not have seers like Odysseus met on his journey. Such as the blind prophet of Thebes who Odysseus meets in Hades (The Underworld). Tiresias tells Odysseus how to return home, warns about dangers and predicts his peaceful death in old age. We don’t get that. If I had known what was coming in the last couple of weeks I may well have buried my head, but I have not. I have journeyed on with the help of beautiful friends.

Here’s another poem based on the hero of “The Odyssey”, by Tom Leonard, titled “Odysseus”

“Odysseus” by Tom Leonard

it took me so long to get back to who I am
why was I away so long why was the journey so tortuous
all those false masks against a backdrop narrative to do with authenticity

but now arriving back there is still much debris to clear
the clearer to see the point from which I started

that from which I set out confused in sundry identities at war with themselves
now to find calm on that setting-out point as the final destination

The call to return, especially to return home is a powerful one. This call though is not just about returning to a place, it is also about time; about returning to a time in life when everything was simpler and safer. I’m sure that this was Dorothy’s call in “The Wizard of Oz”.

This is the call of nostalgia. To return to the place of safety the place of paradise, where we are cared for and looked after. Nostalgia though is often blind and perhaps senseless. It can also be painful. Things are never quite as we remember them. Nostalgia is rooted in the Greek word “Nostos”, which is the central call of “The Odyssey”, this arduous journey by sea, full of adventure and trials and tribulations. “Nostos” is also Penelope’s yearning too, despite her never leaving the island.

Nostalgia is one of the central themes of “The Odyssey”. The problem is that things are never quite what we thought they were. Nostalgia in its original understanding meant “severe homesickness considered as a disease” from the German heimweh (home+woe) homesickness. It is rooted in the ancient Greek words “algos” meaning pain, Grief, distress and “nostos” meaning homecoming. Nostalgia is a painful homecoming. The call to return home is powerful and, at times, painful. It can cause a deep yearning ache in our hearts and souls. Isn’t this the call of Odysseus, through all his trials and tribulations.

The return home is not without pain. Sometimes you might be rejected on the first return. Think of Jack and his beans in the story “Jack and the Beanstalk.” Think of Jesus in Mark’s Gospel returning home and being rejected and almost mocked. As he said to his disciples ‘Prophets are not without honour, except in their home town, and among their own kin, and in their own house.’

Sometimes we might not be recognised when we return home, how painful can that be. We can feel like a stranger in our own land. Odysseus is not recognised on his return. He looks like a beggar stripped of all his vainglory. Only his old dying dog Argos recognises him, dropping his ears and wagging his tail. Odysseus weeps, but cannot go to his dog or his identity will be revealed. Argos has been neglected and left on a dirt heap. This powerfully symbolises the pain and neglect of Ithaka since Odysseus left. It is a heartbreaking moment. Argos his old loyal dog dies as Odysseus arrives home, safe in the knowledge of his return. This might be the most beautifully pure moment in the whole mythos. Maybe Argos is the real hero of the Odyssey.

Here is another poem inspired by “The Odyssey” Note that Ulysees mentioned in tin it is the Roman name for Odysseus.

"The Art of Poetry" By Jorge Luís Borges

To look at the river made of time and water
and remember that time is another river,
to know that we lose ourselves like the river
and that faces go by like the water.

To feel that wakefulness is another sleep
that dreams it is not dreaming and that the death
that our flesh fears is that death
every night that is called sleep.

To see in the day or in the year a symbol
of the days of mankind and of his years,
to change the outrage of the years
into a music, a rumor, and a symbol,

to see in death sleep, in sunset
a sad gold, such is the poetry
that is immortal and poor. Poetry
returns like dawn and sunset.

Sometimes in the evening a face
looks at us from the bottom of a mirror;
art should be like that mirror
that reveals our own face to us.

They tell that Ulysses, tired of wonders,
wept with love at the sight of his Ithaca,
green and humble. Art is that Ithaca
of green eternity, not of wonders.

It is also like the endless river
that passes and remains and is the mirror of one same
inconstant Heraclitus, who is the same
and is another, like the endless river.

In the “Art of poetry” Jorge Borges, like Joseph Campbell, recognised a common theme in all the great stories. In this poem he explores some of the great ancient Greek stories. One being Ulysses (which is the Latin translation of Odysseus) and his painful return to Ithaca. He also talks of the philosopher Heraclitus who suggested that we can never return to the same river. This is because water continual flows on and on and the water we step into is never quite the same, but also because we who stand in the river are not the same person either, life will have changed us too. Like the river our lives, go on and on, ever changing. The lesson is that it is not about yearning to return to some mythical ideal, but to fully experience the adventure, the beautiful journey as the poem by Constantine Cavafy, “Ithaca” suggests. This is the lesson of Homer’s Odyssey and perhaps all the great stories. The treasure is the journey itself.

Life is a journey and a beautiful one at that. One in which we are constantly turning and returning again and again and again. It is not always an easy one and one where there will be troubles and difficulties. There will be times when we will not be recognised and may not even recognise ourselves; there will be times when we will feel completely lost and won’t know where to turn for sanctuary. The key is to journey on and in the end we return from where we came. We though are not the same and neither is the place or anyone else.

Odysseus returned home a changed man. Humbled by the journey. Stripped down and older. He and Penelope were eventually reunited, along with his now adult son Telemachus. Odysseus this fulfilled his Nostos. The story, well that goes on, as our lives go on, for the journey is never ending.

I’m going to end this devotion, although there will be more on the Odyssey next time, with one final poem by the wonderful Mary Oliver. A poem titled “The Journey”

“The Journey”, by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.