There is so much joy in this moment I cannot stop myself from writing about it.
It’s 12.25am and this is my last Wednesday in Vancouver, Canada.
Oh dear British Columbia, dear land of First Nations people.
Those lands have probably been the ones that changed me and assisted my inner growth the most. Also the ones that challenged me the most.
I honour you, for you honoured me. I love you.
Dear lands of First Nations,
Thank you for letting me live on, with and off of you.
Thank you for holding my ground whenever I felt like crumbling down with sorrow.
Thank you for lifting me up whenever I felt like flying high with joy.
Thank you for holding space for us foreigners that seek shelter on you.
Thank you for holding space for us foreigners so that we can become family to each other. I met the most beautiful humans on you, and I will be forever grateful.
Thank you for nourishing me, feeding me with plants and animals, teaching me through crows and squirrels, speaking to me with wind, eagles and snowy mountain peaks.
What I will remember of you forever are: the high, endless mountain range. The snow. The rain. The greyness. The eagles. The crows. The black squirrels. The totem poles. The First Nations. Kitsilano. Unnecessery material luxury. Homeless people of East Hastings. Karma Teachers. Ketch Di Vybz. Dancehall dancing. Red Room nights. Granville Street. Oakward House on Oak Street, mi casa. My friends. UBC. Wreck Beach. Nudists on Wreck Beach. The logs on the beaches. Pine Trees. Whistler. Cafe Abruzzo on Commercial Drive. Grandview Park. The Cafe on Cordova and Carrall. Gastown walks. The bikes stolen. The coffeeshops. The dispensaries. My mental instabilities. My growth.
Thank you for hosting me,
opening my eyes,
making me an adult (almost).
Forever yours in heart,