Coming Home

An essay by Emily.

May 16, 2026

This may contain: an open book with glasses and a cup of coffee

Congratulations to em ⋆˚꩜｡ for having their following essay chosen for publication on Blank Canvas Post. The essay that follows is a truly wonderful exploration of the complexities of living abroad and returning home. Please read the follow conversation between us at Blank Canvas Post and em ⋆˚꩜｡ to understand more about the writer and the context for this brilliant essay.

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Writer Spotlight: Emily.

Originally from Oregon, USA, em ⋆˚꩜｡ has had an interest in writing since the 2nd grade when their teacher told them they had done a really good job on a piece of writing homework. “From a very young age, I knew who I was - a girl who thrived off of academic validation”, em ⋆˚꩜｡ says. “I have enjoyed writing my whole life, but really began to take it more seriously my junior year of college when I became a writing major”.

What was it that made you start writing?

What made me start writing more consistently was the writing classes that I took when I did a study abroad program at The University of Auckland in Aotearoa. My classes were taught by two time New Zealand Poet Laureate Selina Tusitala Marsh. She was such a great teacher that exposed me to a lot of great writing that changed the way I view literature. She was also, obviously, an incredible writer, but an even cooler person. Like, the girl had so many amazing accolades, and had even met Obama!

What experiences have you had that have shaped the writer you are today?

Being in those classes at the UofA really shaped the writer that I am today. Not only was my professor incredible, but I was in a large room surrounded by extremely creative people. Hearing their poems and essays showed me a variety of writing styles, which really pushed me to try and develop my own voice.

My travel experiences have also shaped me. Especially my solo travels. The experiences that you can have solo travelling are indescribable, but extremely impactful as well. Basically, IYKYK.

What genres are you writing at the moment? What genres do you enjoy writing?

At the moment, I usually write short essays or prose. I have dabbled in poetry in the past, but can really seem to get my footing there.

I really enjoy prose. It’s the perfect length for me. Sometimes I feel like I have too much to say for a poem, but not enough to say for an essay, so prose is the perfect medium. I feel like I have more room to take creative risks in prose.

What inspires you to write? Where do you take your inspiration from?

The biggest inspiration to my writing is nature and the experiences I have collected from living abroad. I am very lucky to have lived in some very beautiful places. There is so much beauty in the world, and I love trying to capture it in writing.

The current age of AI is also a huge inspiration to me. I think it is more important than ever to put human work out there into the nasty sea of AI generated content. Whenever I’m feeling stuck with writing, I remind myself to go outside, look at your surroundings, and just write something. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t even have to be good. It just has to be human!

What does your writing process look like (e.g., environment, tools, setting)?

To be honest, I don’t think I have much of a writing process, or routine I guess. But my favorite place to write is somewhere where I can people watch, or just observe some piece of nature (preferably a body of water). My journal is where I lay out the bones of my pieces. I sometimes write in full sentences, but usually just try to write things down in quick phrases, just enough to get the point across. It’s in a Google Doc where I clean and butter things up!

What do you envisage when you are writing something new? Are you writing with the intention of sharing your work, or are you simply writing to write, for example?

When I begin writing, I think of the different topics I want to talk about as puzzle pieces. I give each piece individual attention, developing it, and then shaping it so that all the pieces fit together.

When I write, I’m usually doing it with the intention of sharing it. I love being in creative communities and want to bring something to the table. Substack has been a good low pressure platform for me to share my writing, and I actively enjoy writing for my cute blog every week. I think writing with the intention of sharing it has helped me grow as a writer because I feel more deliberate with my prose. But, writing for myself has been an enormous help, as my private writing usually sparks ideas as to what topics I want to create a story about.

Why do you think community is important for writers and creative people?

I think community is important for writers and creative people because it helps us grow into the best versions of who we want to be. Being surrounded by different voices, styles, and perspectives allows us to get a better understanding of the art of writing. This is especially important right now with the prevalence of AI, as well as all the tragedy that is happening right now in the world. Having a community of writers can create a space for people to share their voices and their experiences. It’s important to have a space where we can nurture that, and listen to others.

Where do you currently share you work?

Currently I just share my work on Substack. Sometimes if I’m feeling bold, I’ll share one of my pieces on my very small Close Friends Instagram story, but that rarely happens.

I also have a poem titled Bunny Loops published in Wingless Dreamer’s anthology titled “Hey There, Delilah”.

Why did you submit your work to Blank Canvas Post? What drew you to our publication?

I think what drew me to this publication was the focus on community. The questions in the submission form showed me that Blank Canvas Post is very committed to creating a community of writers, and that is something that I have been looking for!

About the Essay: Coming Home.

Regarding Coming Home, what inspired you to write this piece?

One of the biggest themes that I have seen throughout my time in Thailand is that tarot can be scarily accurate. That was a huge inspiration for this piece. I remember in early 2025 looking at my life and being like “this is exactly what my tarot cards said would happen.” It was kind of crazy and surreal. From the moment I did my 2026 reading on myself, I wanted to write something about the crazy full circle moment I had experienced. Now that I am about to leave Thailand, I finally felt at a good enough point to start really thinking about my time here and start writing about it.

What is the context for this piece? What is the main feeling or message behind it?

This post is contextualised by the beautiful nature of my city and my fascination with tarot. This past year showed me the power of tarot, and really strengthened my faith in the universe.

The main message I am aiming to portray is a sense of hope, and the power of gratitude. Gratitude is an extremely powerful thing, and has truly helped shape my perspective. This piece serves as a reminder to me of what can happen when you do feel a deep sense of gratuity. I hope it connects to at least one person out there in some way :)

What was the process of writing this piece like for you? What did this process look like?

This piece initially started as a journal entry about palm trees. It’s the end of my time living in a place that has a lot of them. The abundance of them was the first thing I remember noticing about my new city, so I was just reflecting back on that moment. I also was reflecting about my past year in Thailand and how amazing it has been.

I felt like if I wanted to tell all the crazy events that had lined up with my tarot reading, the essay would end up being far too long, and also I didn’t want to spill all my tea to the internet. So, I had fun taking a more creative and metaphorical approach.

Why did you choose to submit this piece specifically to Blank Canvas Post?

I chose this piece specifically because I liked the images that I created in the essay. I felt like in this essay I played with a lot of descriptive images. I also just really love creating a story that feels complete, and I feel like the cyclical events really helped me create an essay that wraps up nicely. I also hope this piece reaches people that might have had similar experiences with tarot. I want to hear their stories too.

So, without further ado, here is Coming Home, an essay by em ⋆˚꩜｡.

Coming Home, by Emily.

a short essay by Emily Schorzman.

The moment I arrived in my new city sits in my memory as clear as a freshly cleaned window. 10 new teachers and I were in a mini van, zipping down the highway from Bangkok to Pattaya. We were finally entering the outskirts of my town, when I woke up from a nap and took a glance at my new surroundings. Outside the window were fields and fields of palm trees lining the highway. Their fingers were waving in the breeze, greeting us. These palm trees were not perfectly placed like the ones on Rodeo Drive. Rather they stretched out into their own forest, climbing the surrounding hills and mountains. Green and lush, sparkling in the sunlight. They were a glimpse into my new world.

Since that day in October 2024, I have been working in Thailand as a teacher. And unfortunately, as all good things, my time here is quickly coming to an end. It’s like going through a breakup, except this time there’s anticipatory grief, because I know the day when I will lose a chunk of myself. A whole identity that has been shaped by experiences in this special place, leaving in order to go somewhere that has lost its status as home. This umbrella of dread hangs over my head, blocking the sunshine from touching my cheeks. I worry that I will get used to these clouds. I worry that my shoulders will forget what it’s like to feel light. To say that I’m dreading my return to the U.S. is an understatement.

If 2024 was the year I moved to Thailand, then 2025 was the year I started believing in tarot cards. Of course, like the nosy girl I am, I wanted to see what was coming my way on this new adventure. So, during my first few weeks in my new home, I went to my apartment after school one day, and grabbed the deck of tarot cards from my shelf. Holding the deck against my chest, I asked “what lesson will I learn this year?”, and to my surprise these cards were nothing but honest. After a haphazard shuffle on the top of my comforter, swirling the cards around rather than thumbing through them swiftly like a croupier, I plucked three out that my fingers felt a magnetic pull towards. Laid out in front of my eyes, staring at me like a mirror, were three pictures. The Sun, Death reversed, and the Devil reversed. Now, I didn’t know too much about tarot back then, and I don’t know much now, but when you ask these so called fortune tellers what lessons you’re about to learn in this new era, it doesn’t feel too reassuring to have Death and the Devil boring their dark eyes into your vulnerable chest.

Over the course of the next year, I watched in real time as the fate of these cards played out. Death came in strong, and brought me a sword to cut out a meaningful friendship that had reached the end of its life cycle. Although scared to let go, it gave me a horse to ride on, stepping over the dead body of my old self, bringing me towards a rising sun. But it did not end there. Death gave me obstacle after obstacle. It was a bottle that held fear of the unknown, yet I still sipped from it. It put panic into my hands, knuckles turning white from gripping on to the past, scared of what will happen if I just let go. But, it also gave me the power to use those same hands to remove the bottle from my lips. To help my fingers open my book, fly through the pages, and eventually slam it shut when I decided this chapter had finished. Inside the book lives old habits and mindsets that no longer serve me. They stay there for reflection, to make sure I continue on this journey fearlessly, and know when it’s time to let go. With Death comes rebirth, a path that has been paved for new beginnings.

After I reached the end of my time with Death, the Devil came and greeted me at the edge of the road. He had been there this whole time, whispering in my ear, coming to me in my dreams. He showed me the key to unlock the cage of unfulfillment and let those birds free. He showed me the best route to get to the beach, walk circles in the sand and make my own spiral. I thought my time with the Devil would be scary, drowning in fear and depression. But no. Looks can be deceiving. Even the Devil had white wings at one point. I drenched my eye contacts in solution, and removed the fuzz that blocked my vision. The stars glimmered with delight, lighting the fire beneath my feet to reclaim my power and move with a sense of liberation. And after all this, I still had the sun, shining with love on my back, and winking back down at me each time I needed guidance. A source of reliability. Of course it was there for me this whole time, even when it tucked itself under the dark sky to rest.

My trust in tarot didn’t happen because I saw my life change in the ways they said it might, although that did help strengthen my belief. My trust happened because of the Sun card. It was the first one I drew from the pile. Almost like a mirror, this card reflected warmth and positivity onto my thawing skin. I had felt it when I stepped off the airplane in Bangkok, scrambling for a taxi outside, the air still thick with heat even though it was almost midnight. I felt it when I stepped into my new apartment for the first time. The curtains in my room were open, letting the rays bounce off the sterile, tile floor. And I had most certainly felt it when I arrived in my city for the first time, seeing the relaxed palm trees gently point our van in the right direction. The Sun had been there the whole time, but pulling the card out of the deck had given these feelings a celestial label.

The Sun card is one of the most positive cards you can get from a tarot deck. It represents radiance, abundance, and fulfillment. And although I was faced with plenty of dark moments during the Death and Devil phase of 2025, I still had the bright, shining, ball of fire in the sky to reassure me that it will rise again, just as it always does. All will be well. Although this feeling of sunshine had been with me the moment I arrived in Thailand, it wasn’t something that was super new. I have always been a radically optimistic person, one who often has a smile on her face without even realizing it. Does that mean I haven’t struggled? Of course not. It’s just who I am, as natural to me as my fingerprints. This feeling, though, was intensified under the Thai air. Each smile amplified as it was returned back to me. Hours spent sweating outside are always rewarded with fresh fruit from the side of the street, or a cafe with AC. Life here is dripping sunshine, both literally and figuratively.

For the next year, my life was guided by the Sun. It gathered me in a gentle embrace and blindfolded me, forcing me to put my full faith in the journey it was going to lead me on. The Sun would make sure to tap my shoulder when I began to stray off course, and tell me to remember the vibrancy that happens when you view your life through a lens of gratitude. So, I tried to never take those glasses off, and it paid off. For the next year the Sun gave me a plethora of new friends, new foods, new travels, new experiences, and plenty of new connections that have wrapped my heart up in a pink bow. Gratitude and warmth seeped through my skin, and attracted all this beauty into my life. When I look back on this year, I know that it will be one that I keep close to me. One that I remember for the rest of my life. And when things get bad again, because they always do, even if just for a bit, I will remember to come back to the Sun card I pulled that day in 2024, and follow its guidance. I will remember to tap back into the magnetism that good energy and gratitude provides, and watch as the rest follows.

Now, here I am in 2026. Still in Thailand, but with boxes waiting to be packed and sent back across the globe. A lingering sadness asks to be recognized. It’s getting harder to ignore. Keeping the same optimism when I think about going back to Oregon continues to become more and more difficult. Oregon is a place where most of my memories are tainted with dreary skies and winter rains. A place where in certain months I’ll have to defrost my car before I leave, and others I’m spent in constant fits of sneezing and itching from the pollen. A place where palm trees don’t appear naturally, like they do here. I think that’s what I will really miss. The way there is always an open hand, relaxed and patient in front of me. Waiting for me to put my guard down and step in. The leaves caress me, wrap me up like a cocoon and nurture my soul, giving it a place to rest. They stand tall and strong, not even letting the high winds bully them. Maybe I’m so drawn to palm trees because they are what I aspire to be. Tranquil, unselfish, and powerful. They comforted me each time I hit a hurdle this past year. Rubbed my back while going through Death, swaying encouragingly when I first met the Devil. And when I would fall into a pit, it would swoop me up with its fingers and put me in its hammock, letting me lay closer to the sun.

But, there are trees in Oregon too. Quite a lot, actually. Probably billions. They stand tall and strong in their own ways, yet reach towards the sun all the same. There are ones that I haven’t seen before. Ones in new neighborhoods, in new cities. There are trees that I have seen the last time I was there, through the perspective of a 22 year old. But now it is 2026, and I am 24, and haven’t seen my old world through my new eyes that now find beauty in even the tiniest of things, so maybe there is more to look forward to than I had previously thought. It’s easy to go down the spiral of what will go wrong, but it’s also a lot more fun to daydream about what could go right.

2025, the year I started believing in tarot, is a year that was charged with energy. Addicting energy, one that changed the neural pathways in my brain. It is a year I didn’t want to leave, and will look back on fondly. So, to continue this new tradition, I decided to do another spread. One night, at the beginning of 2026, I pulled the tarot cards off of my shelf to see what these next 365 days have in store for me. Yet again, I held the cards up to my chest. This time I asked “what will I gain, what will I lose, and what will be the overall theme of this year?”. Once again, the cards flew haphazardly across my comforter. 2025 was definitely not the year I became a croupier. My fingers picked the first three cards they were magnetically drawn to. I laid them out carefully, difficult to do when your hands are buzzing in anticipation. The first card was the answer to what I will gain. Excitedly, I flipped it over in a flash. Staring right back up at me like an old friend was the Sun. The card that had given me so much this past year. Back again. I couldn’t help but cry.

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