I leave Nova Scotia shortly; in fact, I fly out on exactly the same day I arrived nine years ago, an elegant departure of completion.
I have no regrets about leaving. I have learned what I need to learn here, and it is time for the next leg of my journey.
Nova Scotia is a volatile part of the landscape and for those who feel the "pulse of the world" one could say it is a powerful center of conflicting energies. There is a vortex of immense goodness here, and a vortex of great darkness, there never seems to be anything in between. It is not a welcoming place for those who come "from away." The tartan, bagpipes and the smiling shopkeepers are for those who are leaving as quickly as they arrived. For the ones who stay longer, the story can be somewhat different.
I arrived here from New York, largely. And I came here because a friend recommended that it would be a wonderful correlative to that frenzied life style that I had once occupied, the maelstrom and the hyperactivity of a Manhattan street. And because I needed a change, I came and stayed for as long as I could.
I find that this place is not enough for me. Yes, it had slowed me down and that was needed, and I am grateful.
But what I need now is still the maelstrom of a city with heart, but one that embraces all, that lives with passion and beauty and where one can throw away constrictions and a stifling pressure to conform, and be oneself again.
And so this is where I am going, very soon.
There are those in Nova Scotia who feel that with the chaotic node we are living in that there are certain places in the world that have been designated "safe havens" and that this province is one of them. But they are mistaken.
The only safe haven lies within ones' sacred heart, and it is immaterial whether you are in Halifax or Baghdad, or in Manhattan. There are sacred places in the world, definitely. But the most sacred place of all is that which lies within.
I have no regrets about leaving. I have learned what I need to learn here, and it is time for the next leg of my journey.
Nova Scotia is a volatile part of the landscape and for those who feel the "pulse of the world" one could say it is a powerful center of conflicting energies. There is a vortex of immense goodness here, and a vortex of great darkness, there never seems to be anything in between. It is not a welcoming place for those who come "from away." The tartan, bagpipes and the smiling shopkeepers are for those who are leaving as quickly as they arrived. For the ones who stay longer, the story can be somewhat different.
I arrived here from New York, largely. And I came here because a friend recommended that it would be a wonderful correlative to that frenzied life style that I had once occupied, the maelstrom and the hyperactivity of a Manhattan street. And because I needed a change, I came and stayed for as long as I could.
I find that this place is not enough for me. Yes, it had slowed me down and that was needed, and I am grateful.
But what I need now is still the maelstrom of a city with heart, but one that embraces all, that lives with passion and beauty and where one can throw away constrictions and a stifling pressure to conform, and be oneself again.
And so this is where I am going, very soon.
There are those in Nova Scotia who feel that with the chaotic node we are living in that there are certain places in the world that have been designated "safe havens" and that this province is one of them. But they are mistaken.
The only safe haven lies within ones' sacred heart, and it is immaterial whether you are in Halifax or Baghdad, or in Manhattan. There are sacred places in the world, definitely. But the most sacred place of all is that which lies within.