Linear Unravellings*

"Doing the sensible thing is only a good idea when the decision is quite small. For the life-changing things, you must risk it."

- Jeanette Winterson*

just outside Kaslo

It's been months since my last post - months since I have really had a writing routine, or much of any kind of routine. And yet the pull is still there, and I accept I am not going to be blogging with any consistency (is blogging even a word anymore?!). Everything is swirling around at this end-of-summer time, and though it isn't Libra season yet things feel as up in the air as ever.

Writing and sharing photos here is a place for me to come to when the bigger (more serious?) writing projects are languishing - and when I am not travelling or doing much creative work, I feel a kind of listless energy as well. Or maybe it's the just the mood this week - with cooler night temperatures rolling in, fog in the mornings clearing to sunny afternoons. A new place to rent for the winter, on the horizon, but much bigger dreams just under the surface.

Many many books have been read this summer of in-betweens, and I've loved the constancy of a good book waiting for me in the evenings (or for a warm pause on the beach, some afternoons). I look forward to diving back into my own writing this winter as a way to, in part, bring forth the next chapter in my life. Will I be able to make my tiny house dream come true? Is it better if I keep alive the hope that owning a house in Nova Scotia, my favourite province, is a way for me to find grounding, make a good investment, and have a GORGEOUS place to visit for at least part of each year?

also just outside Kaslo (on the other side)

Because through all this hobo* living, these past few months, I've discovered both an adaptability I wasn't sure I had anymore, and a new resolve to find/build for myself, a small place I can call home permanently (if only for a season at a time). Ideally, I would like to embrace a migratory life, where I can spend time in a few of the many places I've loved, each year, and find work and connection that will sustain me through this cyclical (perhaps seasonal) movement. 

In movement, I find peace, I find perspective, I find new energy. I like having a home base, but the world is too big, and life too finite, to stay put for too long. And I do love being a hobo. It feels very 1920s, counterculture, artsy and courageous in all the best ways - maybe I was a train hopper in another life.

 

(*HOBO: "homeward bound?" ... "hopelessly bohemian"... lol... any other ideas?)

great visit with old friends near Revelstoke

It hasn't been all uncertainty and solo deep thinking. I've really enjoyed some sweet connections from unexpected places and people, and though I'm grateful to be back at my regular job, coasting around on the margins for a few months has been a helpful (if stressful) way to bring the important things into focus even more clearly. Time is precious, connection is so so important, and there is a lot of work still to do in this world that is hurting in many horrendous places.

I hope, as the Equinox approaches and I find some grounding in a new home for the winter, that I can keep the compass pointed on those important things, flow with what is happening around me, and stay open to new opportunities to connect and contribute during this next turn of the sun.

magical birthday visit to Bannock Point with my daughter

Until next time, I'll be migrating!

xo Christine

*For more great writing about existential topics by Jeanette Winterson, check out her Substack: https://jeanettewinterson.substack.com/p/time-after-time

making wishes by the fire