Reflection

It's been a long time, an amazing year and four months and an intense time of change. I spent this morning on the back of my friend's motorbike, the afternoon singing at an incredibly beautiful memorial for a woman I've never met but know well and respect deeply, and this evening cutting a friend's hair on the deck.

In the past year I have accomplished so much, learned so much, lost so much and found so much. And it just doesn't seem to stop. In four months I'm moving to Prince George for another chapter, another lesson, another stage. Haida Gwaii is my home and always will be. I will always be on my way back here, even if I don't necessarily make it here every time. I've found so much family here. So many mothers, strong women who keep me honest and ask me the questions I don't want to answer. So many fathers, who are constantly telling me things like where to fish, to park facing the way home when I'm on the backroads and how to use a maul properly. So many brothers who show me new skills, take me out adventuring and bring out the more reckless side I never really knew I had. So many sisters who support me, encourage me and amaze me every day with their bravery and excitement about the world. I've fished, crabbed, canned, canoed, kayaked, sang, performed, designed, coordinated, planned, loved, laughed, danced, drawn, sewn, knitted, surfed, taught, learned and connected. I found my place on the land and in the community and people have shown me how much they love me for it.

I miss my family outside of Haida Gwaii every moment of every day. My parents, my sister, my friends and loved ones whose lives I only hear about by email and phone calls. I live in a place that's hard to get to and harder to understand and sometimes ever hard to love. But I love it. I don't really know how to leave, can't really remember how to function in a city where the environment is so far away from what I do every day. I'm sure I'll figure it out pretty quickly but it's weird to think about. Heating my home by moving a switch, being able to shop for groceries on days other than Monday, buying gas at all times of the day and night and never wondering if I should have filled the jerry can. Not waking up to the ocean every day. But at the same time, my life has to move forward again and to do that I need things that only a city can offer me, like a university and a well paying job.

And so, I prepare for another shift. And I hope to god that someday, a very long time from now, I'm remembered in the Skidegate small hall the way I saw a woman of the islands remembered today. With music and laughter, food and so much love. So many people, of all ages, from all over. She taught me a lot, this woman I never met, about how to be a person and a musician and part of a family.

I'm still me, but I'm also so much more.