Allison Louise

"If you're anything like me, you've experienced a season (or many) where everything feels hard, where living in a new city (or an old one) is lonesome, and empty, and you wonder if you'll ever put down roots and feel at home. Being at home is not merely geographic--it's having a sense of belonging, and feeling known, knowing others. When I feel out of place, it's easy for me to clam up, to close in on myself, and to begin ticking off the things I lack. At times, this inventory includes the carefree charisma to charm, the tight-knit community I crave, the invitations to cozy soup suppers and evenings spent around the fire. In short, I keep my head down, with my hands firmly clenched around my laundry list of wants.
        During one particular season, in which I experienced this wanting most deeply, the thing that eventually changed me was not suddenly coming into a cache of friends, or resigning myself to self-pity; instead, my self-focused gaze shifted, and I began looking at and wondering about others around me. I quickly found that the antidote to discontent is examining what I do have, and sorting out how I might freely share it with others." --Julie Pointer for Kinfolk

 I thought leaving Victoria and returning to my hometown was going to be simple, easy even. I thought that I would reconnect with old friends, find a job, slip into a community, and just. be. happy. When my old friends weren't who I remembered them to be, and a job didn't come easy, and community felt further away then ever, I thought I had made a mistake. I thought that Kelowna was one big mistake.

And then I realized that I had been focusing on, what Julie describes above as, "my laundry list of wants."And you know what, that "laundry list" is keeping me from experiencing my joys. And I know, I know, know, know, that Kelowna has some big time joys.

So friends, if you were worried about me, if you thought I was pushing you away, it has nothing to do with how much I care about you and everything to do with my need to feel like this new, old place is home. And I think this new, old place can be home if I want it to be--and right now I want it to be.

So I've made a decision. It may all be very silly and I may look back and wonder why I thought this would be a good place to spend my time, but I want to use this blog. I'm gonna be a blogger. And really, all it's going to be is a love letter to my joys, and a love letter to you, my dear, dear (and missed) friends.


So, without further ado, away we go.