This is going to be one of those ‘looking back on yourself’ posts. An arduous, instrospective read. Have tea or wait for another post about shoes. Maybe I can point people to it who ask me why I came here. At least it’s punctuated with music, I live to a soundtrack.
In one day, it will be exactly four months since I got on the plane to Vancouver and left London behind. I’m not going to lie, I left London under a big cloud. The cloud of not being altogether sure that this was a great decision, I’m only now deciding that, in fact, it was the best decision. For me at that time. Sure, it could have come when I really needed it, six months before. But that would have really been running away from my problems. And probably would have been a huge mistake. I suppose it would never have felt like the right time. Still I was freaked out, at the idea of starting a whole new life in a city I had never been. I got some good advice from a friend who said that I would be awesome and that Canada would love me, I am so lucky that this was true. What warm and welcoming people there are here. How London seems like such a cold city in comparison.
I also got some advice from people who made similar moves and said that I would be having too much fun to think of people back home. Almost true. I always think of people back home. When I stop doing that I will worry that I’ve stopped caring about them. I am lucky that, unlike my sister, I don’t have the pull of my real home too much. I’ve been gone from my parents long enough that I have developed the telephone support system. My mother being so good at this that she can sense from a change in my tone when something is wrong. She is the best and worst counsellor at times. She can go from telling me that a particular job is the best one I’ve had and I should keep it, to saying that she knows I will always find a new one, or a new man, or new friends. That faith in me keeps me going in the darkest times. The faith that I will always be fine, wherever I go and whatever I choose to do. There will always be new people and new activities to wrap around me. Considering how much of a restless spirit I have, I sense that I will need this affirmation throughout my life. The older I get, the harder it will be to throw things away and start anew. Dublin was easy, I had very few ties there and was taking the most important person with me.
London was harder to leave. I had made a perfectly good life there, and the reasons I wanted to leave didn’t seem so important when the date was approaching. It would have been so easy to just stay. But in the end it came down to doing things for myself.
Getting involved with someone before I left was probably not the wisest decision I’ve ever made. Especially someone who was never sure of me at all and considered me a rebound. It’s always easier to leave when you have less people to miss and care about, especially one you’ve cared about in a different way. But c’mon wise decisions were never a part of my repertoire. I’ve made worse ones and like this one, they always end in some kind of heartache and losing the relationship that you’d had with them before. In fairness, everyone told me that it was a bad idea. But I’ve always believed that some things and some people are worth the risk. Arguably, I’ve yet to be proved right by this belief. Maybe it will be just be me at the end of my days chasing bad ideas.
Still, I found myself telling a friend tonight that they should go for it, like gambling, sure you can lose big but sometimes you beat the house. That’s how I feel about Vancouver. If not, another city. I hear Barcelona is nice this time of year.
This blog post is my attempt to unload thoughts and find clarity in the space left behind. I’ve probably been meditating way too much. Damn hippy west coasters.