Monday, July 7, 2008

And just because this needs to be addressed...

Please read this article with regards to Morgentaler's recent reception of the Order of Canada.
(an article by Stephanie Gray for the Calgary Herald)

http://www.canada.com/calgaryherald/news/story.html?id=6409f554-5ef8-4dbd-bc89-f8514903cb6f

Summer stop-over in Yarmouth

It is kind of ridiculous how long it has been...but for everything there is a season- and I will be faithful to the ebb and flow that is laid out for me.

I have not had the chance to write because of the busy-ness of life and because of the difficulty in making my head meet my heart so that they could collaborate in the production of a truthful entry.

I guess I could begin by saying that it is so good to be home, but there is a bittersweet aftertaste, most certainly. There is something so captivating about this little ocean town, it plants something in your heart that entangles your whole being if you allow it.

There is a reason why captivating is the perfect word for Yarmouth because when you fall in love with this place, it takes you captive. There are so many sweet, sweet childhood memories that surface on the shores surrounding my home and it is difficult to tear my identity and my sense of personhood away from it's natural gravitation...that is, to all things foggy but also to all things sun-and-salt-kissed; to all things Maritimes. I think it is a hopeless situation and one that cannot be dwelt upon for too long or else all will be lost as all that is within me becomes captive to this place...never happy or satisfied anywhere else.
Life calls us forward but love calls us home. And although this is fair, and it is to be desired, it is a painful experience because we are forever strangers and sojourners longing for a constancy and for a home that no longer exists or if it did, its existence was primarily found in the aftermath of a good book or a single beach day's residue. This rose-tinted perception of the past is conveniently (and mercifully) only composed of the first fruits of our past, the restless days are left in the fog where they had their beginnings.
So there you have it...the past is largely illusion but it is preserved in our minds and hearts in such a way that there is no place we would rather live...the tug is forever noticeable and it is just enough of a pull to get us home with a broken heart.
Thank you Yarmouth, thank you childhood, thank you Jesus: for going before us always with a broken heart.