Hi! I am Parul. My ancestors are from South Asia, I was born on Turtle Island in Tkaronto, and I currently live in Indonesia. I use poetry, prose, poetic frames to unravel entanglements of our thoughts, feelings and experiences. Call it an evolving decolonization practice that is liberating the many intelligences our existence contains.
☝🏽 I read you this newsletter, or you can read it yourself! 👇🏽
So I signed a 1 year lease in Bali…
It has been a long while since I actively chose to commit to a place and space for a duration longer than a few months.
A definition of commitment issues is feeling the suffocation of freedom when making a long(er) term decision. Commitment issues is often a misdiagnosis when following non-traditional living patterns. From outside my body, and in the eyes of others, my migration patterns may look sporadic, spontaneous, or even jagged.
Despite me growing up in the same home for 25 years, the nomadic characteristics I embody has no visible catalyst. Though the inquiry of what is home and what does belonging mean has been the core thesis underpinning the work I do and art I create.
A little summary of my living patterns:
I haven’t lived in one place longer than 1.5 years since I left for university.
I have not resided in Canada longer than 10 months since I was 16, with the exception of 2013 & 2018 (personal implosion years) and 2020 (global pandemic).
I have been known to take mini-retirements. This is when I work intensely for 1-2 years and travel/live elsewhere for 3-7months. I have done this several times.
In 2020 I decided I wanted to live in Asia. Tired of the monotony of western living, I desired to live in a place that embodied qualities of community, culture and care, and chaos. The lack of distinct, visible organization of space allows for more possibility. Chaos and creativity are inextricably linked.
So, I got rid of my place.
I packed all my belongings.
Preparing myself to fly April 2020 to Bali.
Readying to depart Canada for an unknown period of time.
However, the universe had other plans, for all of us.
Cancelled flights.
No place to live.
Global pandemic, an uncertainty of a different kind.
So I decided to be nomadic in the city I grew up in, Toronto. Hopping sublet to sublet. Living with a beautiful variety of friends. I lived at 7 different intersections over the course of 10 months, until finally I decided to hop countries.
List of intersections I lived at: King + John // Montrose + Dundas // College + Dovercourt // My Parent’s House // Lansdowne + Dupont // Queen E + Broadview // Danforth + Pape // Costa Rica
Each move refined and decreased the amount of items I brought with me. Slowly defining what I need to feel at home.
Kitchen: my spices, superfoods, tea strainer, measuring spoons, vitamix blender, instant pot, my breville tea kettle, a few mason jars
Bedroom: fabric to decorate my space, crystals, incense, candles, little notes to self, a few key books, floor cushions / yoga mat, clothes
(I am really getting into the details here, but I feel like the details offer insight and avoid abstraction.)
As the amount of things I could travel with became smaller and smaller, my definition of home became looser and more specific simultaneously. I found more versatile ways to feel a sense of home, which is a beautiful, spacious knowing to have of oneself.
Home for me is my room to cocoon in
Home for me is running 🏃♀️
Home for me is cooking and sharing meals 🍳
Home for me is the smell of incense, a hot cup of tea, a comfy place to sit and read/write. 📓
Home for me is sitting in a cafe sipping coffee or wine writing, lost in thought. ☕
Home for me is when I am hidden under my hood with a scarf tucked around my neck whilst in my emotional space. (Very cat like 😽)
Home for me is sitting next to a crackling fire, feeling all toasty and warm. 🔥
Home for me is when my nervous system finds ease, wherever that may be.
As you may, or may not, know, I have worked in the city / real estate sector for over a decade. Thinking about city dynamics and housing rights is engrained in me.
Housing is a basic need for human life. Shelter is foundational to everyones physical, mental and emotional health. Yet the commodification of housing has created a very fucked up dynamic (to say in short). Denying people basic rights to live. Movements in Canada, and cities across the globe have been activated pushing forward housing as a human right. Check out the work of former United Nation’s Special Rapporteur of Right to Housing Leilani Farha and a film she is in called Push.
i don’t know wtf moving somewhere means
i mean i just live here, for now.
living is just living
what does moving mean?
i guess bringing a big ass pile of stuff?
maybe it’s bringing all your stuff?
i guess we all just assume that we have lots of stuff
enough to be like m-o-v-i—n-g
a fucking ordeal
a pain in the ass if you would.but what if you had less stuff?
is that when we say we are travelling?
to some, there is a clear line between moving and travelling
but increasingly the line is blurring.
the housing and hospitality industry are converging,
the pretext of co-live spaces, or airbnb for that matter
is that you can live anywhere, everywhere, anytime.
the sticky part is you begin to feel like a commodity
being extracted for rent — the smallest amount of square footage
to feel comfortable enough while they suckle your monies.
Wait, isn’t that parallel to what long term renting feels like?however long term renting feels more precarious
since the person renting has an aversion to moving
desiring a sense of permanency, a static state of living.
here gives a space for insecurity
housing insecurityownership evokes this sense of mine
a truer notion of permanence
a sense of safety and security that cannot be revoked*.
(arrow down to paragraph)perhaps we desire stillness and permanence in our external world
in hopes to bring quiet and peace
in our internal world.
a home for all our stuff
all our hobbies
all our fashion
all the things we would need during different seasons,
different emotional states, different life stages
i get it*Revoked
on Turtle Island
a place we now call North America
the city you reside in
is born on stolen land
so even your purchased land
is not really yours
how can it be?
when it was never meant to be sold
promises broken,
treaties unfulfilled,
dismissing, dismantling
Indigenous peoples
for the sake of
your sense of safety and security(arrow to here)
oh yah, and wealth accumulation
we want and need monies to live
somehow (more complicated story) we have tied home and money
intertwined in a knot so tight
home is where the heart is
and we’ve sold our heart
falling to the guise of safety and security
our hearts vision is impaired
obscuring our true needs.
uncertainty is the only certainty.
Thinking about home is not a simple life task.
If you feel its importance to yourself and your family
stretch that out to history and society.
Find where you sit on the spectrum of privilege
and feel gratitude.
Share support to those who need more care.
Be mindful
where you reside.
Much love 💙💛💚
Parul // @parulbee
letter 010: what is home? standing on cross roads 🏠💙🧳🌎🦦