This is where I am from:
not this town, but the emotional landscape.
Tall pines by the road,
the bright June sun
everyone else is racing home from ” up North” on the freeway,
but I am not wililng to erase this all.
This is where I am from:
i remember a boy who thought he was an introvert, who wanted to buy some land
over near Floodwood, and hide out from the world reading
and writing, playing guitar.
Instead, he moved to the cities, discovered jazz, returned to piano, and started his Buddhist practice.
and I remembered all the bitterness I had about my hometown, how I hated the small mindedness, the rascism, the unawareness of the larger world, how i felt so alienated and left out…. thought i was an introvert (!) and found my true nature is that I like people.
but I crave nature. I was so bitter about my little town
and how long i held onto it
and today, driving through the middle north, memories flooded over me,
stronger than nostalgia
appreciation
this is where I am from.
Because I felt so out of place there, it pushed me to seek the law of the universe,
pushed me towards my Buddhist practice.,
pushed me past my comfort zone
of all the judgements, criticisms, bad feelings.
and I drove by my hometown, on the road by the house where I grew up,
the trees looked different, the houses changed, I remember the dog that bit me in the ass,
when riding a bike, and how that owner of that dog, a doctor, found my mother’s breast cancer. and the people i used to know. and the lake is still there.
and finally the house where I grew up…. my father’s gardens covered with weeds.
(but my gardens are great!)
and a dog barking in the house ( i have a barking dog!)
and i looked at the place,
felt peace, appreciation, for this beauty, this place where I began to form myself.
This is where I am from.
and part of it will never go away.
thank you.