It is funny how living at some distance from your own family changes things. Physical distance yes, but certainly not emotional. That distance creates space for something new, a kind of family you gather around you. It makes you cherish moments of tradition and togetherness even more. Those can be your own traditions, like celebrating Sinterklaas evening, and also the traditions of the place where you live, like the procession of Saint Nikolaos the day after. It feels special to share those moments. Old experiences woven together with new ones while a new community, a new family of sorts, forms around you.

And just like in every family, there are different characters. With some you click instantly, with others it is simply fine. Yet they are all part of the family you create and part of your daily environment. It is striking how deeply humans need community. I see it in myself, in Philou, and in Edwin. The three of us love having people around us. We also enjoy those quiet moments just the three of us, but having the possibility to seek out company whenever we want to is a gift.

In the absence of our own family here, whom we still connect with regularly in other ways, we actively build our self-made family. We have created our own Friday afternoon drinks or Saturday dinners and recently celebrated Sinterklaas together. With thoughtful poems, gifts, games and good food it became a warm evening we are still smiling about. For Philou it was pure magic, of course.

Now we are looking forward to spending two weeks with our real family and our oldest friends in the Netherlands. We will dive into the familiar warmth and cosiness of Christmas and afterwards look forward to returning to our new self-made family here to welcome the new year together. Another new experience to add to our collection.

It is special to share so many new experiences with the people around us. We are immersed in the culture we now live in and we seek out ways to connect with the local community. That becomes easier the longer you stay in one place. We see how at home Philou feels now. She has friends in the playground, goes to theatre class and there are small concerts for locals that we attend. Bit by bit we become part of the community. People recognise us. There are the small chats, often light and simple, and then occasionally deeper conversations with those rare people you truly connect with.

For me those moments of depth matter. I enjoy lightness and fun, but from time to time I need a conversation that touches the emotional layers. Something that nourishes the soul. Living away from your familiar circle makes those deeper connections rarer but somehow also even more beautiful when they happen.

Here we also have more chances to seek out nature. On Sundays we try to include a beautiful walk, learning more about our surroundings and discovering something new each time. Experiencing this through the eyes of a six year old makes it even more magical. You find yourself explaining things you might never have considered otherwise. Living on a boat remains a unique experience. Giving her this sense of community and belonging, in a different form than most children experience it, feels rich and meaningful.

It also teaches you a lot about yourself. You become more aware of your own needs. What does your heart ask for. Some people thrive on practical contact and daily chit chat. Others, like me, need a sprinkle of depth now and then. A simple cup of coffee can suddenly turn into a surprising conversation and leave you feeling energised.

And now we float somewhere between what is here and what awaits us in the Netherlands. December always feels like an in between month. A bit of work, a bit of planning and a lot of anticipation. Because in the end it is all about the warmth of the people we will meet. That is what we look forward to most. That is where we will immerse ourselves.

Finding home is sometimes less about a place and more about the people who gather around you.