Skip to main content

Stranger in a Strange Land

On Sunday night, I felt this weird sensation when we got into bed.

Kinda like, I was living in a new house. Or living someone else's life.

It was so bizarre. Everything felt strange and unfamiliar.

Throughout my life, I have been known to have the occasional anxious moment where all you want is a big hug from you mom. And, I always took advantage of the hugging when possible to make the willies go away.

But this was different. It wasn't a scary feeling. Just more surreal.

We have recently started planning our next travel jaunt and this one is looking to be a big kahuna.

We're talking about places like Singapore or Sydney as though they were Toronto or Montreal.

We're deciding on whether to go to Vietnam or Laos first like it's a decision about chicken or steak.

We're discussing day long trips on trains across Mongolia and Russia like it's a decision about whether to walk or ride our bikes to the store.

All the names, all these places, that for so many years were far away and distant on a map are now becoming places I need to decide whether or not to pack a bikini or a sweater for.

I'm trying to remember the excitement when we decided to take the plunge around Europe.

Trying to remember how I felt then. Was it this strange? Did it feel this exotic?

Once we lived in the UK, it's amazing how someone's weekend to Madrid or Berlin or Amsterdam just became, well, so common. Like someone from Canada going to Daytona Beach for spring break or Muskoka for a summer cottage stint.

I got to the point, living in Belfast, that I figured I would simply just have to adjust to the fact that I would only have a few months to travel around Asia. Take it all in before heading back to Canada.

And now I'm here, living in Korea, feeling occasionally isolated but mostly quite Asian, talking about taking a quick jaunt over to Fukoka, Japan before we head down to a Malaysian beach.

All these places that I used to dream about in my grade 11 World Issues class. Little letters strung together as words on a big map with green for land and blue for sea.

And when I look at these places now with my students, it's my home that's far away.

Perhaps I felt strange on Sunday night as a reminder of how lucky I feel. How happy I am that I AM living this life.

That most days, I am pinching myself, wondering how I ever got here from a small town in the middle of the 401?

And I suppose, that's a great way to start the week that will end with my 31st birthday.

(what??? you thought you'd get out of it in this post? nice try people. nice try...)


liz said…
mmmmm...tacos.... ;)

Popular posts from this blog


My regular journaling has significantly improved my mood.

I've been taking some time, twice a week, to polish existing content as well as develop my floating ideas into a more concrete outline.

I've felt this focus for the last 6 weeks that I can't really describe properly. It's as though I've shifted my thinking totally. Writing is my craft. It's what I do, who I am, how I exist. It's like my mojo.

So, I guess, I've gotten my mojo back. My focus, my purpose, my essence.

And it feels good. It feels right. And I am almost understanding more now why the best writing of the best writers happens when they are older, more polished, more experienced, more rough around the edges.

When all the youthful spark has been extinguished and what's left, is the determined embers, that will not go softly, that will not die out. That will continue, fervently glowing, creating warmth and not just drawing attention from its flicker, but pulling people in by it's so…

Room with a view

We've been in our new home for 10 weeks nos and it's feeling more like home than ever.Every day, I sit down at my desk to the most inspiring view.A collection of stories is building. This space makes it easy to gather my thoughts.I've been consumed with a few work projects and am looking forward to collecting my thoughts soon.Writers club is still going ... I was on a bit of a hiatus but hope to get into my routine for fall. For now, boat gazing is helping.

One thing

It's that time of year again. That time when we all decide to become a little more of our better selves.

It's a good time of year to commit to something, even if just to say you're going to try to make it happen. And, even if things don't change and perhaps you even fail at whatever you were resolving, it's actually just the action of pledging change that really brings the most benefit.

And so, this year, as I'm sure most writers are pledging, I pledge to WRITE. MORE.

Not necessarily blog more. But write more. Keep the act of it going. Commit to treating it as my craft instead of my hobby. Promising to keep it a hobby at heart but a skill in practice.

I've started a daily journal again - one page per day -- of anything, really mostly a rundown of what I did that day. Or heck, even a bit of stream of consciousness of what's banging around in the old head that day.

I also bought another daily Q&A book that, if I'm successful, will carry me across…