Sunday, January 4, 2009


It takes time to arrive.

This summer, in Malaysia, it wasn't until my fourth and last week there, when I was walking in KL (why can I no longer remember the name of streets), that I felt I had arrived, come home, my body adjusted to the heat, to the noise, to the different rhythms.

In Vancouver, it has taken me 20 years.

When I first arrived and for many years later, I used to wonder what people meant when they said Vancouver was a beautiful city. The great outdoors, the beauty of the wilderness surrounding this unlikely city, was wasted on me. I could not see them.

Now, 20 years later, I see the new world.

Outside of me,
inside of me,
holding me in his arms.


Lisa PN said...

I just found your blog as i was looking on the battery opera website. yes, feeling at home can take a long time, even when you were born in the same city. i have often felt more at home in cities far far away. and yet, when surrounded by my friends whom i have chosen as family, i can not help but feel that i am blessed and am so home.

Thank your for the honest and beautiful post.


sufeh said...

Thank you Lisa. I just found your blog and your beads!