The Art of Belonging–Happy Birthday, Canada!
Yesterday was Canada Day—the birthday of this exquisite country that’s been my home for most of my adult life.
I went for a walk this morning, and was struck by the purity of the air, which fills my lungs with sweet, life-giving oxygen. By how clean the dirt path is, under my feet. By lush and sparkling beauty all around me. Tall cedars and firs, in shades of rich viridian green, reach upwards into clear blue sky. Grasses along the side of the road sway gently in the breeze, their ripe heads nodding in blessing.
Above all, I am surrounded by silence and silver bird calls, enveloped in a friendly solitude that puts me firmly in the midst of the natural world. I pass just one other person on my walk. She waves as she jogs by. The morning is mine to savor. And savor it I do!
I’m in love with this place, this seaside village where I live, this country that is so shyly generous, that offers itself modestly, without fanfare. I’m in love with this place that is my home. My home!
I’m an egg that’s found its nest.
It wasn’t always like this. For much of my early life, I longed to belong. To my family, who gave me love, shelter and the safety of tender hearts, but to whom I remained a mystery. To the world of my school, where all the girls seemed to know the secret of How to Be that eluded me completely. To India, which embraced me in one breath and repulsed me in the next.
I longed to be like everyone else. And yet, I wasn’t. (Neither was anyone else, but I didn’t know this then!) The pain of being different is a two-edged sword—to feel separate from others shreds the heart. But the deepest cut comes from feeling separate from yourself, from your own tender, radiant spirit.
That longing to belong took me on a journey far from myself. And stranded me on alien shores, far from the hearth of my heart.
Now here I am, almost sixty years old, surprised by belonging. It slipped in when I wasn’t looking. By living my life, I’ve made a life. Here in the Pacific Northwest, halfway across the world from where I was born.
I’ve rolled into the nest that perfectly cups my heart.
Happy birthday, Canada!
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Twitter: victoriashmoria
Gorgeous, Hiro! Such a lovely description of finding Home.
I see little seeds for other posts here, too. I would *love* to know more about your experiences growing up in India, how you came to Canada, and how you became the amazing You you are today!
Twitter: HiroBoga
Thank you, Victoria. And thank you for the wonderful ideas for other posts–yes. Stay tuned! :-)
Love to you,
Hiro
Hiro Boga´s last blog post..The Art of Belonging–Happy Birthday, Canada!
It’s interesting how we can get that backwards, trying to find a place to belong instead of belonging to ourselves first. It seems to keep coming back to that for me. Thanks for the thought-provoking post!
Like Victoria, I look forward to hearing more about your life!
leah´s last blog post..Meeting Yourself Where You’re At With Art
Whoa. I read this while tears were still flowing after reading Havi’s post. Thinking I need to compose my dual responses in a blog post of my own. Wow, I’m ever in awe and increasingly moved by your presence and words Hiro. XOXO
Jess´s last blog post..Matters of the Heart
It’s late and I should really be sleeping now, but somehow (well that would be Twitter), I found my way here — to your latest post. And, as always, it stirs and churns and touches places in me that I’m not alway connected or aware of… that part of me that’s journeyed far and wide looking for all the “missing pieces”
I know this all too well – “That longing to belong took me on a journey far from myself. And stranded me on alien shores, far from the hearth of my heart.”
But I’ve not quite arrived “home” as you eloquently described: “Now here I am, almost sixty years old, surprised by belonging. It slipped in when I wasn’t looking. By living my life, I’ve made a life. Here in the Pacific Northwest, halfway across the world from where I was born.”
But, then again, I’m still on my journey.
Such deep wells you drink from, Hiro. So grateful to have the opportunity to drink and to inspired to drink.
Yael
Yael´s last blog post..It’s More Than a Website
Twitter: HiroBoga
Leah, yes–but then, how many of us were told as kids: You belong to yourself?
Jess, I’ll look forward to reading your post. When it’s up, come back here and post a link for us so we can all read it.
Yael, walking the journey brings belonging. May it be so for you.
Love to you all,
Hiro
Hiro Boga´s last blog post..The Art of Belonging–Happy Birthday, Canada!
Your post is very touching and how true are your words about the longing, being different, and the journey away from ourselves searching for what is already there, at home, inside each of us. Thanks Hiro.
Rosaland´s last blog post..Theme Thursday – Mindfulness
Gosh, Hiro, you and I must have been writing about home at the same time yesterday! Wow. How curious and wonderful. I love Canada. You say it well: so shyly generous. Yes. Love you and your country (or, one of them ;) Also, yes, nature feels a whole lot like home too, doesn’t it? Where I live is not nearly as quiet and serene as you describe your home, and yet there is nature… every day it moves me and helps me feel at home in myself, in the world. Thanks for stirring more thoughts! xo heidi
Heidi Fischbach´s last blog post..Time Capsule Thursday #4: where there’s a way there’s a way. Oh and a bunny.
If I didn’t know differently, I’d imagine you climbed inside my head and was reading me from the inside out. To Canada I’ve only been a visitor. But to the belonging and not belonging mindset, ahhh I’m very present to that one. I spent most of my years believing I was out of step as well. And so I was.
And you couldn’t be more right: There’s only one place – and every place – we do truly belong. That’s the place where we’re most authentically ourselves. If we aren’t there, we’re no where. If we don’t feel at home within ourselves, we’ll never be home regardless of where we are or the beauty that surrounds us.
Give my good wishes to Canada, Hiro. I’m glad you found home there. And I’m even more glad you’ve found belonging.
Gail McConnon´s last blog post..Where The Scary Aging Alone Stuff Lives
Dear Hira; What a wonderful encapsulation of the experience of not belonging. I wish I had seen this article before as I struggled in my life to “belong.” Like you, at age 66, I have finally come home to myself.
Thank you for your wonderful words,
Love, Uma
Hello Hiro…you said it well. So many of the good things “slip in” when we are not looking. I am glad you “belong.”
Karen
Hiro, here is the link to my blog post that was inspired by this post of yours yesterday! http://tinyurl.com/iamme
Thank you so much! xo xo xo
Jessica Reagan Salzman´s last blog post..This is real, this is me. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Wow –
Another awesome creation of yours – and how it slipped in that you’re home after feeling so out of step for much of your life. . . I completely relate to that.
As I was walking today, I realized that I really love being home – inside and out.
Thank you for once again inspiring me in so many ways Hiro.
xoxox
Twitter: lauriefoley
I was completely smitten when I read “I’m an egg that’s found its nest.” Your blog feels like a nest for me! Thank you, Hiro.
Laurie Foley´s last blog post..What is Stopping You?
G’day, Hira – I really loved reading your comments about being home in Canada. I came truly alive when I moved to Australia from the UK in 1972, it was as if my soul was waiting to pour forth its song here in a way I never could in England. I love the splendour of this huge country, the Aboriginal heritage, the distances, and I guess I could go on and on. We – my husband and I – tried returning to the UK permanently in 2002 and I felt constricted and constrained, like a stranger in a strange country. I cried buckets when the plane started on the runway to leave Perth, Western Australia, and I had a huge grin on my face when the plane left the runway at Manchester to return to what I had never truly recognised as my home until I had left it. We got back to my friend’s home after the hugely long journey to be greeted by the chirp-chirp of a Willie Wagtail, a black and white medium-sized bird which wags its tail like mad. It’s considered a spirit messenger by Aboriginal people, and so spirit welcomed me back to my own heart and hearth. The other birdlife which brings joy to my heart is the wedge-tailed eagle which we regularly saw when we lived in northern New South Wales and which we occasionally see here in Gippsland, Victoria. When I was visiting a friend in the Pilbara in WA’s north-west, we were hurtling along in a big 4-wheel drive when my friend braked sharply and started creeping along. When I asked him why he pointed to a ‘roo carcase by the road and a wedge-tailed eagle having a feed. He told me it was wise to creep by eagles like this as they have no enemies and no fear. They see vehicles as a threat and if you go to fast towards them, they’ll attack, which isn’t good for bird nor vehicle. I will never forget going past this huge, majestic bird and meeting its awesome, arrogant eyes as we crawled past. Yeay for Australia and finally feeling at home.
Dear, dear, Hiro,
Happy belated birthday!
Your words, “I’ve rolled into the nest that perfectly cups my heart” are balm to the wounded spirit (and confetti to the not-so-wounded spirit). Thank you for being you.
Molly