A return to a different way of living.
about shorehugger
If you’re like me, you may not be feeling entirely at home in this AI era. The call for productivity is at a high watermark - even as corporate voices rise to “stop hiring humans” or complete mass layoffs. If we’re not careful, this next chapter could become anti-human - now more than ever, we need to make sure that we’re advocating for humanity - and that means returning to what it means to be human in the first place. In a sense, this is a call home.
So what is home? How do we create it, protect it?
Home for me are cedar trees melting like candles, dropping their boughs toward the water. Nanas and Papas would hold my hand, examining multitudes of tide pools for baby crabs, or buckle me into a life jacket while the boat sighed with the rhythm of the waves beneath. We ate lunch from used cottage cheese containers, brought home sea glass to store in a special little glass cabinet. Later, it would sparkle in the evening glow of wild dinner parties, audience to a kitchen boogie or two.
Far from the luxuries of Martha Stewart and team, North Vancouver (the “North Shore” of Vancouver) is home to a particular culture - outdoor living combined with the warm embrace of community. We live at the meeting point of mountains, forest, and an expanse of ocean that stretches to Japan. We spend our lifespans meeting friends and dogs for soggy hikes in the coastal trees, debating fashion choices before running for the sea bus, and accompanying our elders as they age gracefully on seawall walks.
When we self-reflect, we describe ourselves as “shorehuggers” because we never want to leave. And yet - I did leave. I’ve spent nearly half my life between two worlds, building a career and life in San Francisco while constantly yearning for home. The easing of this tension started when I realized intention, values, and practices are portable. The examination and exploration of what it would mean to return to building a life that feels integrated, embodied, and mine, is starting to become a philosophy and way of living.
All over the world, people have been - and continue to - connect through similar methods.
I’d love to invite you to join me on the journey to remember them, to return, to re-author a collective humanity and a deeply personalized life in which we can, collectively and individually, truly thrive. I’ll share my reflections, and I hope you’ll share yours, too. For now, the beginnings are just starting to take shape.
I’m really glad you’re here.
