Things do not always work out the way we want them to, or, life does not unfold before us as we had planned. I am not in India, nor am I in Tanzania. I am, instead, in Vancouver, sitting amongst partially-packed boxes and bags, awaiting my eventual departure to Toronto, a city I hoped to have never seen in the unforgiving, wintry months of January and February. There, I will do the necessary work to allow me to commence fieldwork in India, hopefully in the spring.
It has been a trying year, and so I remind myself that there is a season for everything, and everything is everything. This is not about disappointment or disillusionment, nor is it a narrative of repeated failures. It is not about hate, self-hate, nor the withdrawal of general amicability for the preservation of some last bastion of pure, guarded emotion. It is not about finding a sense of belonging amongst others only to forget myself. It is about surrender and control, and knowing that healing, forgiveness, salvation, acceptance, deliverance, mercy, power, joy, grace, and love have always, and will always, be right here.
The past few weeks have been a blessing, bringing the family all under one (or two) roofs. Here is a pictorial update.
Flying into Kelowna, the landscape turns increasing white.
I had joked about being greeted by deer, only to find two of them in our backyard the first night back.
The view from the back of our house.
A quiet moment, if only for a second.
Walking through a park with my parents.
Sunset at the city bird sanctuary on Christmas Day.
Walking along the mountainside, and down to the beach.
Tall grasses in the wind; a lovely sound.
The Okanagan Lake at dusk.
Music: jónsi and alex – grow til tall