Notes on a Buddhist path

Home remixed

August 5, 2011 By | 6 Comments

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)

Image credit: Tess Wixted

Comments

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

  2. greetingsfromcoupeville says:

    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.

Trackbacks

  1. […] 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 […]

  2. […] 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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