Today, Wednesday, April 10, 2013, I am home, after a winter in exile. Are you home or in exile? What is the difference? For me, home is a familiar, affordable, appropriate place where I know people.
Edmonton, Canada, where I spent the winter, is less familiar and affordable than when I lived there earlier in my life. That city of a million was appropriate for university, from 1979-81, from 1983-85, and for work from 1985-86, when it had half a million. My siblings are there but I know few others. They saw me more frequently this winter than during any of the past 20 years.
Williams Lake, Canada, population 11 000, 900 kilometres west of Edmonton, felt more like home when I reached it as winter ended. I first came there to teach in a nearby rural school in 1991, after I graduated from McGill University in Montreal, Canada. I know Williams Lake better than I know Edmonton. Williams Lake is a more appropriate place to live as I age. I need sell fewer of my hours as labor to survive here. As I age, time eclipses money in importance. My spouse and our daughter are here. Many people welcomed me back.
Home.
Edmonton's streets, river valley, university, theatre, films, swimming pools, and public transit made exile fun; but Williams Lake's trails, hills, lake, and relaxed culture suit me better now. An Edmonton winter confirmed that I belong in Williams Lake, a smaller place. I grew up near Edson, then 3 000 population, 200 km west of Edmonton. Edmonton's university broadened my mind, but a rural childhood opened my mind, gave me the courage to aspire, to learn, to go to university. After a liberal education, I was at home anywhere. I have more time to read in Williams Lake than I had in Edmonton.
Time.
I am a country boy at heart. In Canada, 80% of people live in cities. I feel privileged to live in the country. My brother lives in the country outside Edmonton. My two sisters live in Edmonton. May they be as happy, as at home there, as I am here.
My love of the rural glowed this month in Anaham, my spouse's community of 600, 100 km west of Williams Lake. It glowed during an early morning walk to the Chilcotin River, across the valley from her house. The night stars, the bluebirds flitting among fence posts, the breeze, the quiet, and many other experiences, remind me that my home is here. My home is the country, the land, especially my spouse's indigenous land. I am her lucky, happy guest.
Dare to find home. Be home and rejoice.
