Thursday, October 22, 2009

On Being Nomadic...

It's time to pack up and travel again. It's funny because I feel so torn - torn between this beautiful and exotic place, lots of adventures, new friends, and of course my partner in crime - compared to Canada. Nothing replaces my own country, my family, my job, my language (hahaha).

Over the last 10 years I have moved a LOT. Moved houses, moved cities. I have struggled a lot with what is 'home'. I often feel like I don't have a home anymore. We don't have our childhood home to go back to. I like Kingston a lot but I'm not there often enough to really feel like that city is home, although I do own property there....so I guess that technically is my home. There are lots of places that I feel "at home" but that's not really the same either.

So...I'm still stuck!
Home is where the heart is? - that would be with Ray
Home is where I keep my favourite toys? - that would be Kingston
Home is where my mail goes? - that would be Michael's house!
"Home is where you can say anything you want, cause no one listens anyway" - well that could be Thailand cause here I'm just the crazy Farang lady speaking english!

I think that in the end...
"Home is not where you live, but where they understand you".

No matter whether I am coming, or going, Eastern time zone or half way round the world, at the address of my ID cards, or in a locum house in Northern Ontario - I am home. I think I always have been, and it just took a few years and more than a few tears to realize that home is not a place, a building, or the memory of a time past. Home is right here, right now, and exactly what I make of it.

"Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home"

Much love
Pamela

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous10:20 AM

    So you wonder what your part is
    Because you’re homeless and depressed
    But home is where the heart is
    So your real home’s in your chest

    ReplyDelete