le nomade perpétuel

I make no quips about the fact that I feel utterly transient. It wasn’t until the other day that I decided to sit down and count out how many places I’ve had keys to, how many addresses friends and family have sent letters or postcards to in the 2 years and 8 months. I suppose I knew the number would be high but somehow I didn’t realize HOW high. I spent three years each at my first two places on the mainland and then all of a sudden things came unhinged. What better to do when things unhinge than to start building from the ground up again? I pondered and purged and I fit my life into a third of what I’d previously sprawled in and I made a nest that felt so completely me. It was there I felt the ability to let go, to grow back into my own skin. But as the momentum grew, the progression continued beyond that lovely apartment… I downsized from an apartment to a room with an en suite. From the en suite room I moved across the globe and lived on a top bunk in a room of girls with a tiny little closet with a single narrow drawer for socks and underwear and then on a mountain in a house with more than 70 beds and my room had two twin beds just for me and only two other rooms were occupied by my housemates. Eventually I journeyed back to Canada and several more addresses, another province, and finally where I am now. In total, it came to 10 addresses in less than three years.

Suddenly it makes sense why putting holes in a wall became so important a few months ago when I was looking for a place to live and why I needed a few more kitchen items of my own for a while. I was aching not to feel transient and, probably more, because I knew I wasn’t yet at the end of this string of places to live. Most of what I have fits snuggly into the car, or more often, my suitcase. Mostly, I just miss my own kitchen so I have had to get used to making any kitchen my own little haven with a couple good knives and a favourite pot and a few luxuries that seems to travel with me. I still can’t answer the question “where’s home?” at least not without some long philosophical explanation. In a way it has me feeling like Juliette Binoche in “Chocolat” where her and her daughter move from place to place as the North wind blows. Just like the characters, I carry with me my skills and abilities and a few token items to set up camp at the drop of a hat.

Add a comment...

Your email is never published or shared. Required fields are marked *

    Serving France & Beyond

    Follow us on Instagram