Finding Home

Finding Home

The taste of wild Pacific salmon mellow in my mouth, I reflect on the blessings of home that greeted me on my return to British Columbia five days ago...

• The cornucopia of food selection in the supermarkets and various small shops, worldwide in scope and of privileged quality.


• The wide clean quiet streets, nary a motorbike in sight.


• The convenience of a home address, phone number, access to utilities, true high-speed Internet.


• Backups to restore of music and photo collection, files, computer programs, to resume fully the digital side of life.


• Continuity of dentist and doctor care, and besides, being healthier and more energetic.


• Familiarity of streets and shops, to find whatever items are needed or desired, right now.


• Cool fresh air, the cloudless sky (without chemtrails), turning to genuine summer perfection in early May.


• Familiarity of trees, gardens, forests, landscape, beaches - and water swimmable this year in spring.


• Long daylight hours of late spring and summer, contrasting with the dark tropic evenings.


• Relaxation of the body and spirit from the irritating buzz and itch of mosquitoes.


• List of friends/family/band/pod to catch up with, events to attend.


• Compatible language, cultural personality, civil society.


• A single all-embracing culture, instead of divided status as "expat" (leaving aside deeper analysis of colonization here in North America, and how far back that goes, for instance the ice-age megafauna extinctions, or further?).


• Familiar car, house, furnishings, kitchenware, bedding, instruments, printers, desk and chair, clothes, shower and bath.

Five days into blowing this bubble of elation, I pause, already settled in, full in appreciation and now ready to consider what's next. The other side of elation, sniffing the slide down to routine, normalcy, even stagnation; and beyond, the unsettledness of the next cycle, and the complexities of merging another being into this bubble built for one - or floating it off again to another land.

In the meantime, the story settles into a space between the swings of the pendulum. Neither elation nor deflation offers to sustain. Rather a more grounded presence, neither catching up nor leaning ahead, but arriving to the next moment simple and free. May this story, with less attachment to details of home and circumstance, and more opening of heart, continue. Its mantra, whether on page 1, 5, or the last: Stay Tuned.