people have been asking why i'm leaving, and what brought me to the decision to move across the country with nothing. so, before i leave, and while i still have a bit of time, i'll spend a few blog posts explaining. this is my second entry, on how i chose where i'm going.
sometimes, you stand in a place - a place where you've been before, spent hours in, walked past a million times - and it just feels like you’re lost. like you don’t know what you’re doing there. like something just doesn't add up.
and then, sometimes you stand in a place, where you've never been, or you have spent minute amounts of time. and something about the space - whether it is the people around you, the sky, the air, the energy, or the way you feel when you’re in it - makes you feel like home. like you belong. like it’s the right thing.
and sometimes, those feelings, and the way we feel those things in the spaces we encounter, don't add up. how can we feel homesick for a place we've never been? how do we feel alone, in a place we call home?
the first time i travelled west, was to seattle. i was going through a crazy time in my life, and needed a getaway. for no reason at all - other than i'd always wanted to - i booked a trip to seattle, and spent 10 days alone. i fell completely and utterly in love with the west coast. for many, many reasons, i felt like it was where i belonged. like who i was, was complete and perfect there. like i wasn't weird, or unusual, but instead i fit into this space that had been reserved just for me. and it occurred to me - maybe this is what life should feel like all the time. maybe we should always feel like we just fit - we weren't carved to sit in that small opening, forced in with little regard for what was right for us. maybe we were meant to find a place, a space, a thing, where we just settled in, and somehow, all the nooks and crannies fit just right.
something that i couldn't (and still can't) ignore, was when i boarded the plane west for the very first time, i was worried. i have suffered many health issues my entire life - including severe migraines. i live with a constant headache, and on bad days, it blossoms into a full blown 'i'm gonna vomit, and please don't talk about a whisper' migraine. and all i knew about seattle was, in january, the constant rain was a potential threat to a dreamy migraine free vacation. but, when i arrived, it was like a cloud lifted and i was headache free for the first time in 20 years. and without the pain in my head, i was also clear to notice that my arthritic joints were pain free too. i walked around this rainy city, for the first time in years, pain free... and happy. it would be easy to say that the places i love are purely a fit thing, but the added beauty of feeling a much lower amount of pain is something that is undeniably beneficial for my move as well.
fast forward to july - i had visited seattle twice more, as well as visits to my sister and friends in vancouver. i was living in toronto with the constant pain of a broken back, and was looking for an escape to an increasingly stressful job. i hopped on a plane to vancouver, and en route, i thought, 'jamie - seriously think about this. could you live in this city? is the painlessness imaginary? is the stress of no job, worth the lack of pain? are you willing to give it all up to feel at home?'
Sam Baldwin (sleepless in seattle): "Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together... and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... only to no home I'd ever known... I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic.
i have only a few friends there (but those who are, are dear to me, and have been completely and utterly supportive) and am leaving the majority of my support system behind. i have no job. i have no apartment. and yet, for the first time, there is something in me that is calm. something that is totally at peace with arriving in a city where i've only spent weeks at a time, and suddenly being able to call it home. somehow, the challenges of job hunting, friend making, doctor searching, and unpacking all seem so minor - it seems to be oerwhelmingly painted by the idea that soon, i will feel better.
i find myself reflecting - what is it about the west coast? people ask constantly, 'can't you just do that here?'... and i've tried. i've thought about it. i've pushed myself into 4 appts with chiropractors massage therapists, physios a week. i've tried leaving work at 5 every day, and it lead to more stress. i've tried staying home, and i've tried going to my parents. i've tried all different variations of my current life, in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort i feel when i sit in place. but there's a recognizable, and constant tension that runs up my spine - a tension that comes for most people when they are on vacation, and are unfamiliar with their surroundings. when they don't know where the train stops lead, or what direction is north, or where the sidewalk will take them. when they don't know the language, the customs, or where they will stay tomorrow. for some reason, i feel that here - in the place where i'm supposed to feel home. the place i've made home for almost 5 years. the place that i have made my own.
and even in my first visit in seattle, i never once felt lost. i felt like no matter where i went, it would lead to somewhere that was suited to where i was meant to be.
this time, i trust where i'm going. i have no signs to read, no indication of what it will be like when i get there, but i know it will be good. and for the first time in a long time, that's enough.
......................................................................................
and then, sometimes you stand in a place, where you've never been, or you have spent minute amounts of time. and something about the space - whether it is the people around you, the sky, the air, the energy, or the way you feel when you’re in it - makes you feel like home. like you belong. like it’s the right thing.
and sometimes, those feelings, and the way we feel those things in the spaces we encounter, don't add up. how can we feel homesick for a place we've never been? how do we feel alone, in a place we call home?
the first time i travelled west, was to seattle. i was going through a crazy time in my life, and needed a getaway. for no reason at all - other than i'd always wanted to - i booked a trip to seattle, and spent 10 days alone. i fell completely and utterly in love with the west coast. for many, many reasons, i felt like it was where i belonged. like who i was, was complete and perfect there. like i wasn't weird, or unusual, but instead i fit into this space that had been reserved just for me. and it occurred to me - maybe this is what life should feel like all the time. maybe we should always feel like we just fit - we weren't carved to sit in that small opening, forced in with little regard for what was right for us. maybe we were meant to find a place, a space, a thing, where we just settled in, and somehow, all the nooks and crannies fit just right.
something that i couldn't (and still can't) ignore, was when i boarded the plane west for the very first time, i was worried. i have suffered many health issues my entire life - including severe migraines. i live with a constant headache, and on bad days, it blossoms into a full blown 'i'm gonna vomit, and please don't talk about a whisper' migraine. and all i knew about seattle was, in january, the constant rain was a potential threat to a dreamy migraine free vacation. but, when i arrived, it was like a cloud lifted and i was headache free for the first time in 20 years. and without the pain in my head, i was also clear to notice that my arthritic joints were pain free too. i walked around this rainy city, for the first time in years, pain free... and happy. it would be easy to say that the places i love are purely a fit thing, but the added beauty of feeling a much lower amount of pain is something that is undeniably beneficial for my move as well.
fast forward to july - i had visited seattle twice more, as well as visits to my sister and friends in vancouver. i was living in toronto with the constant pain of a broken back, and was looking for an escape to an increasingly stressful job. i hopped on a plane to vancouver, and en route, i thought, 'jamie - seriously think about this. could you live in this city? is the painlessness imaginary? is the stress of no job, worth the lack of pain? are you willing to give it all up to feel at home?'
and within a day of being in the city of vancouver, i knew.
i knew that i belonged somewhere, where i woke up every day in less pain. somewhere that valued physical activity over bragging about how late you were at the office. somewhere where hiking boots were more the rule, than the exception.
and, somewhere i felt like i belonged.
Sam Baldwin (sleepless in seattle): "Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together... and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... only to no home I'd ever known... I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic.
i have only a few friends there (but those who are, are dear to me, and have been completely and utterly supportive) and am leaving the majority of my support system behind. i have no job. i have no apartment. and yet, for the first time, there is something in me that is calm. something that is totally at peace with arriving in a city where i've only spent weeks at a time, and suddenly being able to call it home. somehow, the challenges of job hunting, friend making, doctor searching, and unpacking all seem so minor - it seems to be oerwhelmingly painted by the idea that soon, i will feel better.
i find myself reflecting - what is it about the west coast? people ask constantly, 'can't you just do that here?'... and i've tried. i've thought about it. i've pushed myself into 4 appts with chiropractors massage therapists, physios a week. i've tried leaving work at 5 every day, and it lead to more stress. i've tried staying home, and i've tried going to my parents. i've tried all different variations of my current life, in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort i feel when i sit in place. but there's a recognizable, and constant tension that runs up my spine - a tension that comes for most people when they are on vacation, and are unfamiliar with their surroundings. when they don't know where the train stops lead, or what direction is north, or where the sidewalk will take them. when they don't know the language, the customs, or where they will stay tomorrow. for some reason, i feel that here - in the place where i'm supposed to feel home. the place i've made home for almost 5 years. the place that i have made my own.
and even in my first visit in seattle, i never once felt lost. i felt like no matter where i went, it would lead to somewhere that was suited to where i was meant to be.
this time, i trust where i'm going. i have no signs to read, no indication of what it will be like when i get there, but i know it will be good. and for the first time in a long time, that's enough.
