2 weeks to go

Here it is – I’m leaving for Toronto in two weeks. And the fantastic part is, I feel ready.

Originally I had planned to leave on April 26, just a week after my last day at my full-time job. However, for various reasons, I decided stay another month in the same rented room in Akron. And boy am I glad I did. Aside from the obvious benefits – hang-time with friends and family, resting – I’ve also had a lot to do.

Among the highlights of the last few weeks has been spending time with my 86-year-old grandfather, who's been telling me some family history. Walt Chisholm was born in Cleveland in 1926 and his family eventually settled in Ravenna, where his father worked in the grocery business. Walt earned a bachelor’s in music education at Kent State University (also my Alma Mater), specializing in percussion. He met my grandmother in college, proposed to her a year before she graduated, and she said “no.” Crushed, he retreated, only to find out a year later that, “when she said no, she meant ‘not yet’” – she merely wanted to finish college first. They married and settled in Portage Lakes where he earned a good salary as a grocery store owner. However, he heard the call to the ministry around 1958. I’m fuzzy on the details, but basically he moved the family to Indiana where they lived on a poor salary and relied on the generosity of the community to make ends meet. All wasn’t lost, though, as he ended up with increasing success as he moved to different churches. After retirement, he continued part-time doing grief counseling, hospital visits, and guest sermons. Walt truly found his passion, and you can hear it in his voice. I’ve realized that I have some things in common with my grandfather. Even though I don’t share his religious beliefs, I enjoy shared spiritual experience (I love yoga and ecstatic dance), and teaching others to live positively as a counselor and teacher. Also, I share the tendency to lecture other drivers when they’re getting in my way on the road.

I’m also glad I allowed myself time, because there’s more to do than I realized. Moving to another country isn’t like moving across town. You can’t leave a couple things with your old roommate for later. You have to make big decisions like: should I keep my car? And if so, will I have to get a new driver’s license now, or can I keep this one? Should I leave my car with a relative or donate it? Should I bring it with me and pay up to $200 a month for insurance, plus $50 for a garage parking pass, plus $3-$15 for parking wherever I go, or should I just take public transportation? You have to think about health insurance. And traveler’s health insurance. And whether you should get a bank account in Canada, or just put up with the ATM charges. Blah, blah, blah.  

Also, I’m moving in with my husband. Which means – “do you need an extra iron, honey? Should I keep my space heater? I know you have one, but…”

The other complication in my personal situation is that I’m not moving to Canada. Strange as it sounds, I’m just visiting, because I’m not a Permanent Resident yet. Therefore, when I cross the border, I won’t be bringing a U-Haul. I’ll be bringing the bare minimum, along with proof that I have a backup plan if my PR application is denied. I know it sounds weird, but believe me, it’s true. So I have to sort out my “bare minimums” and store the rest for later. I also have to procure proof that I have a job to return to, a place to live, and money saved in case it all goes sour at the CIC.

Despite all that, I’m not stressed out, because I have time, a yoga practice, and a whole lotta good vibes around me. I’ve done this sort of things before – moving large distances for love – but I’ve never taken this kind of time before. And despite the fact that ‘jumping in” can be invigorating, it’s been really nice to just survey the shore and soak up some rays. There are days when I want to just book it to the border and my husband, and I chide myself for staying so long. But more and more it’s just a sweet anticipation for the good things to come.

The most expensive cab fare in the world: Canada's New York

I'm sitting here in Sean's living room looking over a gorgeous spring day. Toronto can be really pretty, and with the pale colors of the high rises set against the green trees and blue sky, I think I could live here. But there's a lot more to a city than first impressions.

I've spent the morning reading about the high cost of living in Toronto. Apparently, Toronto rivals New York City in terms of basic living expenses. However, as one person complained, "when you're in New York, you get New York." That is, Toronto is no New York, but it costs just as much. However, there's hope that Toronto will become like America's signature city. That's good news, but I'm nervous about what it means financially. I grew up in a place where $40,000 was a respectful salary, groceries cost about $40 a week for a single person, and a one-bedroom apartment rents for $4-500 a month. If I were to stay in northeast Ohio, I could expect to own a home within the next few years, a car by next month, and to be able to eat great locally-grown food on a regular basis without considering the cost. Now that I live in a metropolis, these are things I can't take for granted. But it doesn't bother me too much, and here's why.

"The dream" is condo ownership.

Firstly, I'm actually only 25 in people years (31 in real time). I spent my 20's doing an incredible array of things, including living in three different west-coast states, becoming a yoga instructor, and recording an album of original music. Since 2007 I've been establishing my career, and now that I'm on dry land, I'm figuring out what I want from life. However, my marriage ship has come in, and I've got to hop on, off to another adventure which may not lead exactly where I would've gone if it were just me. As a single person, I probably would have bought a little house in Akron, Ohio, creating a strong alliance with the local economy and a hand-crafted career that allowed plenty of time for play. But the cost of living in Toronto changes all of that. As I'm learning, home ownership here is a luxury, and even apartment living can be costly when you include parking, food, and the high cost of, well, everything. Many middle-class people are turning toward the suburbs, taking a 60-minute commute in exchange for a home of their own. The other option is condo ownership, a way to have something in the city that can be sold for a profit after a few years.
For now, I'm content to enjoy our clean, quiet 1-bedroom apartment while we figure all this out.

Secondly, I am madly in love, and that makes everything else seem a lot more do-able. For a little while, while I'm waiting for my work permit, it might feel like we're pinching pennies. Even after I get a job, we'll probably have to look at creative solution for owning property. That might mean buying a house in the U.S., for visits and eventual retirement. It might mean maximizing my earning potential, something I've never really had the guts for, but which could be a fun adventure and might allow for home ownership in Canada. And while I'm waiting for approval to live and work here, I won't be able to refrain from digging into how it came to be this way and how to live sustainably in an expensive, yet thriving city.

This TorontoLife article sheds light on the high cost of living in Toronto, and how it's helping create the New York of Canada.