Pieces of Dala (An Introduction To)

It’s been exactly 3 years and 2 days since I wrote my first post on this blog. It was entitled “Day 1: Get The Eff Out of Bed, Depression is Not at all Sexy” and was meant to be the first day of a 30 Day Program, which, as you might guess, was what the name of the blog was back then. I had just broken up with a girlfriend, you see and the blog was to serve as a chronicle of the purging of my system of the girl who had so mercilessly ripped my heart out and taken a hot, stinky dump on it (that’s not what really happened but it sure felt that way. I’m happy to say that her and I are now actually friends).
The blog, however, has evolved quite a number of times since then. Taking on different roles, trying on different clothes to best serve what I needed it for at any particular time. Much like myself. And today I decided it was time for it to don a different robe. Today it goes from “Til’ I Overdose”, a hat and ethos and way of life that I have worn for the last year but not until recently realized that I no longer believe in, to “Pieces of Dala” which represents not only a new phase in my writing but also in my life.
“Dala” is a Kenyan-Luo word meaning or referring to “home”. As humans we are oft to tether our identity to the ideal or some sort of vision of “home” is. A place that you can call your own. A place where you feel you belong. I moved around a lot as a child and never really had that. Every new place meant wearing a new face. Because as the saying goes, “When in Rome…” And that meant that every old place meant leaving a piece of me, fake or otherwise, behind. I lived a fragmented life, never having a proper sense of what home was and therefore never had a proper sense of who I was. Even once I was back in Uganda I never lived in one place or neighborhood for more than a year, maybe a little more and my visits to the village and “ancestral home” were so infrequent and often extremely short that even though this was truly home, it was never really home.
All of this resulted into a restlessness, an itching of the heels whenever things became too stable. I was drifter. Never keeping friends, never really caring, never valuing family for what they truly are- an anchor. And so recognizing this and not only recognizing it but also acknowledging it and wanting to change this, “Pieces of Dala” is my exploration into the nature of “home”. What it means to me, what it means to us and maybe, just maybe finally finding it…

Welcome to “Pieces of Dala”.