making it

I have made it to squamish safe and sound.

Lately, I have had one question rattling around in my head – where is home? I’m back in Canada, and that’s certainly home for me. But as I meet new people and they ask “where are you from?" I always hesitate. Perhaps for so many people that’s an easy question to answer. A real No Brainer. Well, I need some time to think about it.
I grew up on the east coast, yet I see no future for myself there. I spent eight years in Toronto, yet I see no future for myself there, either. I find the smell of the ocean, especially that skunky low tide rust and rot smell, strangely comforting.

Home is where the heart is. Home is where you hang your hat. How long does it take to feel at home in a place? How long can a person go without feeling at home?

I feel strangely homeless, but not in the living on the streets sense of the word. I must admit though, I have seen a few really big cardboard boxes lately that I considered excellent “fix ‘er up ‘ers”
I have been meeting lots of new people. Is this where I belong? Is this home yet? I have met plenty of people in the same age group and with a similar look as me. When I was a teenager, I dressed to look different, but secretly found it comforting when I saw other kids that dressed the same as me. We adorn ourselves in a way that we hope to attract people much like ourselves.

I have graciously accepted the hospitality of dear friends of mine, settling down in a corner of their warehouse apartment. Standing on the deck, I can see every route on the Chief and Shannon Falls as it pours down from the mountains. A 360 degree turn reveals a number of mountain ranges. On Sunday I climbed multipitch trad on the apron in the morning, and single pitch sport up the road in the afternoon. How is this possible? I don’t feel worthy to live in a place like this.

I am homesick for so many places. The smells and sounds of the ocean here remind me of nova scotia. I miss the lifestyle I had in Toronto, and the disposable income. Here I am still a foreigner, and this beautiful scenery doesn’t seem like it’s mine just yet. I am not worthy.