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Tangible Roots

It’s interesting being 13,600 miles away from your family. If you look up how to get ‘home’ google tells you to sea kayak across the ocean from Japan to Vancouver. I wonder how long that would take?

The amazing thing is that the distance is somewhat bridged by facebook and e-mail…skype and texting. I still have trouble sometime truly comprehending that I can call my mom on my mobile in Australia during the day and she can be cooking some dinner from the day that I had already finished.

time machines exist.

No matter what though, I think your roots are your roots.

They exist to ground, propel and often times define sides of yourself that you enjoy … and sometimes you’d rather not equate with your current personality.

Family is a weird combination of people throughout your life who are seemingly the same, but with whom you begin to understand differently as time goes on and you gain insight from living your own life. You realise your grandparents aren’t immortal.

You begin to realise that the stuff that annoys you about your mom…is exactly what you do to those around can’t help it.

You realise that you have an amazing Dad, who has set the bar too high for most men..and you’re doomed for being single longer than most girls (well that could also be attributed to the fact that you were raised to be fiercely independent..oh never mind)

You realise that even though there maybe distance of a variety of sorts, that there’s still an often and tangible connection to where you came from. even if words don’t do it justice.

it just is.



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