Today I’m giving thanks, and it’s not because its thanksgiving. It’s because I’m just thankful. And by some divine coincidence, it just so happens that it’s also thanksgiving.
An absurd amount of good has flowed into my life in the past six weeks, and my head is still spinning. Only in writing this can I attempt to make any sense of it.
Firstly, I get to do what I love. And I get to do it from here:
And from here: And from here:
And from here:
After 8 years in bustling cities, I get to go here every morning:
And then here:
And then go back here every night:
For all of this, I am grateful. Indescribably, unspeakably grateful. But ‘grateful’ doesn’t quite capture how I feel coming back to this island, after 132 months–precisely11 years–in other parts of the world. After fully removing myself from this place in mind and in body and firmly establishing careers and communities in very different places, Newfoundland had become a memory to me. The two decades I spent here felt like another lifetime, almost distant enough that I’d swear they hadn’t happened at all. Then I returned to find the same salty air and the same salty people sitting around the same tables talking about the same things with the same ferocious winds battering against the same windows that reveal the same landscape. But I feel different. Utterly, totally and irreversibly different. I’m not grateful for that. I’m amazed.