Posted by: Piyadassi | August 5, 2011

Home remixed

No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man. ~ Heraclitus

I went home last week. A home I didn’t know existed.

As the ferry skimmed towards my former island residence a rainbow leaked its way across the sky. A bit clichéd perhaps, but I appreciated the gesture. Then before I could catch it a thought landed in my awareness. It feels good to be home.

Cortes Island, a wee spot of land in the north Gulf Islands of British Columbia, was my address for nearly three years. I lived in five different domiciles during my time there, but try as I might it never felt like home. Despite the awe clenching rainforests, the pin-up postcard beaches, the spirits and calls of the wild, it never held a space in me for more than its postal code. Until that day.

Home has been an elusive theme for me. The surprise of finding it in plain sight felt a bit like floating down a familiar river and rounding a bend to view a part of it you never saw in quite the same way before. Perhaps it takes your breath away or in the least it brings a smile to your thirsty lips.

What I found when I came home were genuine and deep abiding friendships. Friends who opened their homes and kitchens to me. I floated on the many tea and coffee dates, lunches and dinners, walks through the pristine forests, sunset at the ocean’s edge and a one year old’s birthday party. Several people even told me there was a bit of a buzz about my coming home. Imagine that…

Back in my city home I received some disappointing news today. Those same friends as well as others have been with me on this journey as well. When I was talking to one of those dear beings earlier tonight, wondering aloud what the lesson in all of this may be, I peered around yet another bend and felt waves of love wash over me. I don’t know if I ever perceived how well I am held in the arms of my friends. Their care, their joy and compassion buoyed me through expectation, patience, sadness and clarity.

Perhaps that is the unfolding I was meant to see in all of this. I know it is what resides in me now. Home has an amazing way of showing up when you least expect it.

I would love to live
Like a river flows,
Carried by the surprise
Of its own unfolding.

Fluent by John O’Donohue (“Conamara Blues”, 2004, Harper Perennial)


Responses

  1. with every step i takle, i am at home, says Dogen (1200-1253)

    • Yes indeed Peter. The peace of that knowing is the deepest comfort food one could ask for.

  2. As always, your eloquence glides across the page. How nice to know that home is not only where our heart is, but where other open hearts wait for our return.

    • Thanks dear M! Yes, the discovery of home in every step was a beautiful encounter.

  3. […] scenery of my present life. I felt a surprising contentment after the brass ring I thought I needed fell from my grasp last week. The bucolic vision was gauzy and dreamy, kind of like a Doris Day close up. Any imperfections had […]


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