August 30, 2005

She's Called Nova Scotia

She grows on you slowly
The first time you meet
There's just so much beauty
The heart can believe
And you want to stay longer
And she's ever so pleased
You're one of the many who don't
Want to leave
Lighthouse in Margaretsville, NS

Is homesickness a permanent state? I think that it must be a common trait of pack rats; that desire to hang on to everything that has ever meant anything: the places, the people and the things. We become obsessed with nouns.

I have two conflicting voices fighting for dominance of my brain. Voice One wants to move far away, seek adventure and not look back. Voice Two, the strongest of the two inhabitants, wants to stay here, to avoid adventure, to cling to the people, places and things it has always known.

It's hard to remember
The places you've been
For once in her presence
She's all that you see
And she cradles you softly
Like a warm gentle breeze
And wins your heart over
With a feeling of peace

What I hate most is the feeling of homesickness. It's very close to nervousness and as we have discussed previously, I'm not a big fan of that one either. It's like a little twitter in my stomach and every now and again it rises to my throat, just to remind me that it's still here.

Why do I miss something that doesn't and can't exist anymore? Why do I let my brain fixate on the people, places and things I can't get to anymore? I want to move on and out, but if it means dealing with this feeling forever, I'm not sure if I can do it.

She welcomes the strangers
From far away shores
While deep down inside her
Some walk through her soul
And at night in her slumber
The winds softly call
And awakens her spirit
That lives in us all

I want so much to be like the people who can just move to far away places without a thought or a care. The people who can just leave and not get bogged down with missing "home". I know I'm going to miss "home", even though home doesn't even exist for me anymore. The family, the room, the house, the school, the church, the town where I grew up bears very little resemblance to what now exists in its place. I know I can't get back there, but I miss it none the less.

I wish I could just remember without the feeling, the nagging, the longing. I want to move and not regret it. I want to go and build a life, and come back for a visit.

But I don't know if I can do it! Is it possible to ever get over that longing feeling?

So walk through her green fields
Go down to the sea
The fortune in your eyes
Is more like a dream
She's called Nova Scotia
And she so makes you feel
You've discovered a treasure
No other has seen

Words and Music by Rita MacNeil
© 1987 Big Pond Publishing and Production Limited

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