I often forget that I’m an immigrant. I have two flag pillows on my couch—one Canadian, one British—but when I sing the national anthem, it’s “Oh, Canada” not “God Save the Queen.” When asked, I say that I am Canadian. This is home. We moved to Canada on New Year’s Eve 1981, right in the middle of […]
Welcome To The Brave, New, World
by on March 27, 2019 Leave a Comment
Dear Leah, In two months, everything will change. You will pack your bags, move across the country and into a small apartment to live with your partner (who you will then call husband) and his two cats. You will look for a new job. You will hunt for a grocery store that you like, and […]
You Are Wanted, You Are Loved
by on February 13, 2019 1 Comment
“Your lost childhood message was, ‘You are wanted.’” According to today’s EnneaThought for the Day email, I missed the memo as a kid. Somewhere along the line I forgot that I was wanted and needed by the world. Instead, I adopted the narrative that I had to work for it. I had to clean the […]
Why We Gather
by on November 28, 2018 2 Comments
There were no ceramic pumpkins on the table this year to mark the occasion. We didn’t eat off Grandma’s white plates with the brown flower pattern around the edges that were just retro enough to be cool again. There was no playing in the yard after dinner, the crunching of autumn leaves under our feet. […]
How Remembering Reorients Us
by on November 21, 2018 4 Comments
The first year I moved to the U.S., my parents and I wandered through the grocery store on Thanksgiving day and asked the man working behind the deli counter if we could buy a turkey. The man pointed to the sliced turkey meat on the side. My parents clarified, “We are looking for the whole […]
