Rumi suggests something counterintuitive here: that displacement itself—the act of stepping away from the familiar—restores what our ordinary routines have depleted. Most of us assume travel is escape, a holiday from real life, but he's claiming it's actually a homecoming to our truer selves, where power (agency, confidence, aliveness) and love (connection, openness, vulnerability) naturally reside. Notice he doesn't mention leisure or relaxation; he names the very capacities we've lost. A modest example: someone stuck in a demanding job, feeling small and guarded, finds that navigating a foreign market or sitting with strangers in a village café suddenly returns their voice—they become themselves again, capable and warmhearted in ways their commute had stolen.