The relentless sun scorches thoughts. Through the mirage of asphalt on the horizon, a low fence is visible. And then the sea.
At the shore, an emerald wave erases the kilometres travelled. And only one thought arises: this is now my home. Two years ago, we packed our past life into suitcases and headed toward the Arabian Gulf.
Today, it feels as though we have always lived here. The sands have become my cradle, and they are now my refuge. I don’t feel like an emigrant; I do not miss the city where I lived for the last twenty years.
I love my family, my business, and the new life I have today. Perhaps it feels easy because this is my fifth such move. I had to go through many relocations — but my ancestors were nomads, after all.
Each new city and country has built a separate story, as if I have lived not one but five lives, five parallel destinies that are self-sufficient if you continue to write them. There is a belief that personality always disintegrates — that it perseveres and develops only if you resist the flow. Even in relatively calm times, it disintegrates when a person simply goes with the current.
Perhaps it is this inner pressure — the readiness to go against the current while overcoming external circumstances — that allows us to achieve greater goals. A tree that has grown under wind and rain is better than a greenhouse palm. It has more inner strength, life, and beauty.
Life is like a song with white noise. Some hear the white noise through the music, others hear the music through the hiss. Shortly before his death, Grigory Pomerantz said: God is indifferent to which corner a person tucks himself into.
What matters is that it is his corner, that the person has found his home. I have found mine. And I am happy. — Lara Palmer, Founder & Editor-in-Chief