I used to think I was a waif. There was a time when my home was so hard to define that the only tribe I could possibly call my own would be a tribe so nomadic, so diasporic that to call it anything immediately cancelled itself out.
I just looked up the meaning of the word diasporic to make sure that I wasn’t misspelling it and as it turns out the word is of Greek origin, once to have been used only in reference to the exile of the Jewish people from Israel. As it turns out, the two (Greek and Jewish) have joined together to create one of my favourite words is the world, a word that once changed the way I looked at myself all those years ago, a word that has worked well to define me for a very long time, but I digress.
I thought I had it settled, that the definition of my tribe would have to come from a mixture of several different tribes. Upon careful consideration though – on todays 25-minute tram ride – I decided that I truly feel like I’m a New South Welshwoman. Every part of that state feels like home to me, from the city to the outback. Queensland never did, not ever. And I dare-say Victoria’s going to be working for at least the next 25 years to take the majority rule over this heart of mine. New South Wales is the best damn place in the entire world in my opinion. If we’re being honest I’d actually rather live in Melbourne though, for the weather and culture and such, but New South Wales is a home to me like none other. And now that I’ve found my base I feel like I can move out from that base and seek out some kind of new home. A new settlement.
Further to this New South Wales base, my opinion is that my tribe is presently a displacement. A collection of us who’ve been born into situations which we’ve found entirely unsuitable for our own lives and who have henceforth left in search of new ones. Thankfully a few of us, like-minded as we are have met along the way. We know that home isn’t the house that we live in, or the people we spend time with – it’s the life that we create together. Home is the big picture. Home is the dream becoming the reality, it’s meeting for coffee at a cafe where you can order The Usual, or spending time with your parents over a long weekend, home is sharing an umbrella with someone you love. Home is the love you have for family, by blood or by choice.
My tribe will always start with these two New South Welshwomen who moved away to conquer dreams, then found their way to Queensland, then followed their hearts to Victoria …oh, and men (and women) who help to build our lives with us. You can be in the tribe too. Where would we be without you? Very bored, probably. And no doubt missing you terribly.
