Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Home ... At Last

For the past few weeks, I’ve been “underground.” In the midst of everything—preparing a submission for the Quebec Writers’ Competition, submitting my novella, firming up exhibition dates—I decided to move. While attempting to keep current with my writing, I’ve been painting rooms, hanging curtails, cleaning … settling in to my new home.

At 7:30 a.m. this morning, the movers showed up at my apartment. And 12 hours later as I write, I’m sipping a glass of white wine—Wolf Blass Chardonnay Yellow Label, 2010—in my new home. Yes, although I moved to Sherbrooke in January 2010, I finally feel at home.

I’m no longer surrounded by stark white walls. There is colour and mood, a reflection of who I am—and of being alive in this world. I feel a sense of belonging, and that I am going to be all right in this fast-paced, complicated world.

The long season of depression feels as though it is behind me, too, although I am still on medication and will see my doctor in mid-May to chart a new course. As spring tries to edge out winter (Environment Canada is calling for 15 cm of snow tomorrow!), there is a newness in my step, a positive vision of tomorrow and of the possibility that belongs to me.

I’m not sure why, but I’m reminded of the lyrics to “Maybe Tomorrow,” the theme song from the Littlest Hobo: “Maybe tomorrow, I’ll want to settle down / Until tomorrow, I’ll just keep moving on.”

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