The Great Thaw of 2014

I believe it was this past weekend, the weekend of May 2-4, that I was walking home from the subway station and the wind on that bridge over Highway 401 felt like it was trying to bore through my brain. I put my hand over my left ear because I was actually worried about my eardrum freezing. This prompted me to indulge in one of my occasional fits of swearing at the weather (we all do it, come on), followed by a couple choice words like "Come on Toronto, let's get with the program!!!"

But this post isn't about the weather. It's about the thawing of my O-Canadian life. On February 14, I got my Permanent Resident Visa papers in the mail. After a quick trip to Buffalo on the 22nd, I now have the right to work, drive and receive government healthcare in Canada. Of course, in immigration-time, "now" means in 6-10 weeks, but hey, it's still pretty awesome. I've made some big decisions about my career, including giving up the idea of working in the Communications Field. I'm now fully committed to my original and strongest passion, helping people along paths of mental, emotional and spiritual growth. And I've been practicing mindfulness with quite a bit more dedication, which is opening up worlds of inner resources that I'm excited to share with the world. You can read about these at my other blog, Pointing at the Moon.


Oddly, the more I become used to life in Canada, the less I have to say about it. Perhaps that's not surprising. I'm less like a fish out of water here, and more like, well, a fish... in water? You know what I mean. I'm less interested in what's different about Canada, and more interested in creating my life here. The past year has given me ample time to look over the past, land in the present, and prepare for the future. Along with doing lots of yoga and making friends with awesome people, I've also written some memoir, some of which I may post here. I'd particularly like to tell the stories of my time on the U.S. West Coast, and the 6 weeks of traveling the U.S. that brought me to California in 2002. Though I would often silently curse my travel companion, John, for keeping me so long away from regular hot showers and kitchen luxuries, he was right: It was the trip of a lifetime. And since I don't have kids, I need someone to tell it to! (hint, hint)

For now, adieu; I wander off into the land of pseudo-bilingualism, borderline Americanism, and quirky national traditions like "bacon" and "tuques". A land where Catholicism is still part of public school, where the lakes hold more water than any other place in the world; and where indigenous people fight not-so-distant battles for responsible oil production, collective health and environmental sanity. A city where I feel completely at home, no thanks to the slow transit system or 60-story condos, but thanks to people, and the spaces of love and community they create.

First Christmas in Canada

Sean and I are about to embark on our first Christmas in Ottawa. It also happens to be our first Christmas as a married couple, since we got married 4 days after Christmas last year. It’s been a wild year for us, as we stayed apart for the first 4 months so I could keep working, and then we threw a wedding reception while frantically trying to pack my belongings for the move in June. Since then, things have pretty much leveled out, though of course I’ve been dealing with all the daily adjustments of living in a new city, re-creating a social life, and looking for a new job. I agreed back in September to spend Christmas away from my family so that we could be with Sean’s aging mother, but I didn’t realize how much I would miss my traditional Christmas until it came around. There really is truth in the expression, “there’s no place like home for the holidays.” The reason I know? Because even though the people I’ve met here are beautiful, creative, and caring friends, I still want nothing more than to be surrounded by familiar faces: the music parties, the annual day-after-Christmas hike with my Akron buddies, and of course, my family. So the last few weeks leading up to Christmas have been full of nostalgia and difficult feelings.

Despite that, and while sticking that out, I also see new traditions popping up like crocuses in the snow: tiny, tentative, but hopeful signs of life. Sean has always been into Christmas, but this year the spirit was delayed a bit by his frantic 3 weeks of overtime that just ended on December 12. So we’ve had only 3 weekends to cram in Christmas shopping, decorating and festivities, but we have done a pretty good job, I must say. Not only did we get the living room decorated, bake cookies and buy gifts and chocolate, we’ve actually given ourselves time to enjoy it. Rather than rushing out to see The Hobbit today, we opted to stay in and watch our own movies in the comfort of our home with Sean’s kitschy Santa staring at us. And last night we spent hours talking and dancing to Christmas tunes on the radio. Perhaps partly as a consequence of slowing down, we’ve noticed what it is we really prefer out of the huge variety of Christmas rites out there. Instead of Christmas candy, I opted for Brie, pears, and almond cookies. We learned that, as a couple, we prefer brandy chocolates to cordial cherries. Even though Sean loves Thomas Kincaide ornaments, which I think are awfully cheesy, we both appreciate rustic/handmade ornaments on our tree. And I’ve enjoyed making Christmas playlists combining his favorite Christmas songs with mine.

So with all these new traditions still blooming in my heart, I’m going to accompany my man to Ottawa tomorrow. Ottawa, the capital of Canada, where there is 2 feet of snow and the high for tomorrow is 4 degrees. (4 degrees Farenheit, not Celcius.) Where my family is 10 hours away, but I’ll feel a little more at home knowing we have a kitschy Santa Claus and a box of Brandy chocolates waiting for us, to bring us back to our new tradition.

This is It, Folks.

The cold snap we’ve experienced these past few days, with temperatures dropping into hat-and-gloves weather, has had three effects on me:

• I have an incredible craving for cheesecake
• I’ve gotten a bit depressed and existential
• I’ve realized that where I am is where I’ll stay for the next while – so it’s time to hunker down and get comfortable.

The first two are predictable, but the third is a bit of a surprise. I live in Canada, folks. By the time the crocuses bloom again, I will quite probably be a Canadian Resident, which is a few cents shy of a citizen. That means I’ll be working, socializing, and making my home in a foreign country.

Crazy!!!

Of course, I’m responding with all my typical practical wherewithal, by making lists of small items we need to make the apartment comfortable. I’ve planned a final trip to Ohio to bring over the rest of the books and things I’ll want for the winter. But the real adjustment is emotional: This is it, folks. For real. I’m practically Canadian.

I’ve been here since June, soaking in Canadian TV, Canadian radio, Canadian comedy (it’s kind of different, let me tell you), and somehow, I’m getting used to it. It doesn’t help that I keep saying “eh” in various grammatical/semantic contexts.  Or that I don’t even notice the weatherwoman’s Scottish accent anymore. I didn’t even get mad when I had to pay $6 for a birthday card last week! But thankfully I still have a bit of my American-ness. I think it is crazy how polite Canadian police are on TV. I still get slightly riled up at the price of cheese. And I still do a double-take when I see someone on TV who has crooked teeth.

But seriously, I know very little about Canada so far. I know it is very, very big, that I live in the most fertile part of it, that we have lots of coal and water, and that Stephen Harper is a bit of a menace. I know Toronto is the most diverse city in the world, the job market is very competitive; I know where to get locally grown food and where to meet with friends. These are salient pieces of information but the whole story isn’t filled in yet. Immigrating to another country, no matter how “similar” to your own, is a big deal. You catch bits and pieces like someone hearing a conversation in another language (metaphorically), but you have to wait months or years before you can have a real give-and-take in that conversation. So far it's felt like an experiment, but the big adjustments are ahead—getting a job, citizenship, and finding a way to participate in Canadian civic life, which I suspect is more complex than Americans like to think. But hopefully the journey will continue to be fun, polite, and ridiculously expensive, eh?       

Let the adventures begin

I’ve been unemployed in Toronto for 6 weeks now, and I’ve figured out how to fill my time.

A few weeks ago, it felt like I’d be wallowing in profound homesickness for the rest of my life. Back home I’d found my favorite yoga studio of all time, a vibrant music community, and had started building closer relationships with family members. Things seemed better than ever when I left, so naturally I’ve felt some grief. But sadness will only grow if you feed it, so I chose to distract myself by finding some good things here. And as it turns out, that's incredibly easy. Last week, upon returning from a week visiting friends and family, I delved into some new activities.

Thursday: Ecstatic dance night with friends

Friday: Sleeping off a cold, cooking, chores. Checked out a music festival downtown with Sean (transit time: 1 hour). Watched university fashion students doing a random catwalk practice after crowd dispersed.

Saturday: St. Lawrence Farmer’s Market, solo, since Sean works this weekend. Rescued an inchworm stuck to a raspberry by placing it (raspberry and all) in a flower planter. Evening: Sean drove us to friend’s house in the “country” (Markham) where we enjoyed live music, bonfire and conversation.

Sunday: Checked out UU church, met choir director and a few other folks.

Monday: potluck at a friend’s house, where we ran into a half dozen people we knew (yay!).

As you can see, there’s plenty to do in Toronto. So while I accept (despite anyone’s well-meaning opinion), that I’ve lost something by leaving the place where I first laid down roots, it would be an understatement to say that Toronto compensates for my loss. There are 10-12 festivals every single summer weekend, 3 ecstatic dance nights a week (to my knowledge), farmer’s markets everywhere (to the tune of having one at the local shopping mall), and that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Living in a city like Toronto is the kind of thing that could change you. I already feel myself becoming more optimistic, more interested in things, maybe a little more bold. Could it be because I live in one of the safest, most beautifully diverse cities in the world? Could it be the opportunities and capital out there calling my entrepreneurial spirit forth?  Could it be that I’m in love and feel grounded and supported?

Let the adventures begin.

Daily Life

When I first drove the 6 hours to Sean's place in Toronto, I had no idea what to expect. So when friends ask how things are going, I realize they have no idea if I live in a downtown highrise or a funky walkable neighborhood. So I thought I'd write this for you, so you can see a little of my daily life.

We live in Don Mills, which was a planned community built in the early 60's. What that means is it's a mix of residential, commercial and industrial buildings, so that it could be somewhat self-contained. Don Mills is in the North York district, which is about 30 minutes from everything. When you come into Don Mills, the first thing you notice is spaciousness. The roads are typically 4 or 5 lanes and there's a lawn in front of most buildings, usually with some respectably-sized trees. This is not a neighborhood where you'd see cute coffeeshops, but we do have a bike trail and a great view.

south view -downtown in distance

One of the main advantages of living here, from my perspective, is how quiet it is. Though we do get a constant hum from the highway, there's no trouble with the neighbors and no street noise or bars to deal with. We have a beautiful, open view of trees to the west and downtown highrises to the south. Also, Sean lives only 1.5 miles from work, which is very lucky for a Torontonian.

 Though I would like to live in a more quaint neighborhood, there are things I appreciate here too. Within a mile or two, we have access to big-box shopping (which, let's face it, we all rely on), and the Botanical Gardens, where there's an organic farm market every Thursday (can't wait to check that out!).

I haven't gotten to the point of craving a regular routine yet. So far, I've delighted in setting up our household (one of my favorite activities, maybe that's why I move so often... ) and spending time with Sean.
Being a housewife seems like one of those things you just inherit, and I definitely did - I have a knack for organizing, cooking, and all that stuff, and it's fun to fully explore that. Yesterday I finally ventured out on my own, and walked to the mall for a pair of pants and some Transit tokens. And today I used some of those tokens going to Kensington Market, where, after buying a slew of bulk spices, I just strolled around for awhile. Sean came down to meet me and we had some amazing food at "Hungary Thai" - where the curry comes with extra paprika. 

While it's hard to leave behind Ohio, where I created my adult life these past 5 years, my mind is bursting with the possibilities that face me in Toronto. When I was younger I used to think that every choice was leading me to something better than the last. Now I know that sometimes you leave something good to discover something just as good. You never really know what you could have had in the place you left behind, the paths left untaken, the people you never got to know. But that makes you appreciate every choice before you as you walk down the undiscovered road.