why i'm moving to vancouver

if you're ever left with any doubt. what you'll live with, and what you'll do without.

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 fourth entry, on what i'm taking with me and reflections on 'things' in the process.
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perhaps at the most appropriate time. i post this, on the day i leave toronto indefinitely.
(insert sad song playing in the background here. in fact, feel free to hit play on your fave sad song for reading). 
i have to admit. i have written this in pieces. mostly during times while procrastinating from packing. it may seem as though that makes it less meaningful, or less genuine. but in fact, the packing was what brought this about. what caused all the thoughts i knew i had to think, and feel about 'things' and what they all mean. 
we all have stuff. we all have things we love, things we admire, things we associate with people, and things we can't - for the life of us - get rid of. the things that really mean nothing at all, and yet we can't part with. the knick knacks, and the tickets from inconsequential moments. the rocks and seashells, and the magnets from road side stops. the small momentos that remind us of moments and places and things. 
of course there's the other part of 'stuff'. and the part that was one of the more challenging to admit to myself in my packing adventure. sometimes stuff isn't tangible. sometimes stuff is that feeling you get when you pass that restaurant; that butterfly in your stomach you feel when you walk that specific way to work; the sadness that you can't keep away when you sit in that exact spot on your couch. the memories you collect like possessions when you truly live in a place. all that stuff is much easier to leave behind when you aren't faced with that particular restaurant, that particular walk to work, or that particular spot on your couch. 
some would call it running away. and i'm not going to come up with some reason why it's growing and shedding, or some philosophical reason that i'm collecting and burying those memories and feelings deep in my subconscious. but i will say this: sometimes the couch, the bed and the dresser are much easier to leave behind than the reason why you can't wear that shirt anymore. 

 so, i packed up my life. i packed up the things, and the memories i most wanted to take with me. there were things i needed - clothes, medications, income tax papers, and other things that a real life grown up can't seem to live without - but then, there were things i knew i didn't need. things that i could replace, in time... but things that i wanted. there were simple things, like a can opener that i wasn't willing to part with - because anyone who knows can openers, knows buying one that works, at a reasonable cost, is a complete pain in the neck. things like plates that could be replaced, but if there was room, why not bring them? and, there were more complex things. things like a ticket from the carrick-a-rede bridge my mom and i crossed in ireland, that meant her conquering her fear of heights. things like a small oscar wilde notebook that my friend gave me (along with a few other moleskines), with the encouraging words 'just write'. things that meant enough, brought about enough of a memory, that while packing, they made me stop. think. and smile. nostalgia in the most strengthening and building way possible. 
so, i allowed for one container. one small container that was for special things, in my packing. a small paper globe, a hanging paper bird garland, some antique bluebird salt and pepper shakers from my grandma, a starbucks mug from my first (and very life changing) visit to seattle... all things that weren't particularly useful, or practical to pick up and move... but things that meant something. 
the rest was tossed. the papers, the photos i could reprint. the ticket stubs from multiple versions of trips, the cards, the clothes, and the home things (blankets, pillows, comforters). though those things for me contained memories, it is those things we need to leave behind. we need to leave in place, and move forward without them holding us back. because while those things can hold those memories, they are not our only sources of them.... they are simply momentos in time, reminding us, and triggering. we still hold those thoughts, memories, and feelings that we have always had. and the wonderful thing about letting go of those things that remind us? the reminders that have been acting as anchors? we can choose to simply let them go. 
what is it about things, that causes us such fear, hope, happiness, and recollection? things that are material, that evoke the most immaterial thoughts and feelings within us... so much so, that we simply can't let go?
"maybe the past is like an anchor holding us back. maybe you have to let go of who you were, to become who you will be"

the thing is, our things don't make our lives. the things we buy, and collect, store, organize... those things aren't the things that make us, us. those things decorate our lives - much in the way that our clothes, our hair, our style, and our talk elaborate on the people we want to be. but at the end of it all, it is we, who make ourselves. and starting fresh - ridding ourselves of the tangible things that we have held onto - may be exactly what we need to begin new. starting on new memories and feelings, while bringing with us the good. 
but hey.... the blue bird salt and pepper shakers that remind me of grandma's infectious laugh, can't hurt, can it?
check out the rest of my reflections on moving
[the one where i talk about where i'm going]  [the one where i talk about why i quit my day job]  [the one where i talk about what i'll do when i get there]

life changes and decisions

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 third entry, on what i'll do when i get there.
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i had been having conversations with friends. a lot of them. and on what appeared to be an increasing level. the conversations were always about the future. always revolving the things we want, the things we think are realistic, and the things that we have control over. conversations that ended in, 'if we simply act responsibly, then it will all work out'. things that we can control, we simply ensure that the smartest move possible. 
it's left my mind reeling. whether it be from being stressed at work, sick and exhausted constantly, trying to fit a million things into my days, because i can't imagine missing out on another friend's wedding/engagement party/wedding shower/hangout... any one of these potential disappointments, in addition to the responsible things i was doing all day long in a 9-5. the overwhelming sense of stress and exhaustion meant time spent with a mind going a million miles a minute. 
what does one think about when completely and utterly overwhelmed, as well as having thoughts of conversations on the brain?
my whole life i have been the smart one. the responsible one. i’ve made all the right decisions - the decisions that were financially responsible, future oriented, and safe. logic. it’s all about logic. ‘i could do that, but here are the reasons i shouldn't. here are the reasons it wouldn't make sense. here are the reasons i should do this instead’. and through all that, my heart was left knocking, likely saying, ‘hello! what about me?? when do i get to do what i want to do?’

and maybe it’s for those reasons that i love to travel alone. it gives me a chance to sit, think, and make decisions based on heart. no one will know the outcome, and at the end of the day, i get another day to try again. if i experience failure, i get to try all over again, and no one will know the difference. i can leave that part out of the story i tell upon my return from vacation. it gives me the chance to do what i want, without the responsibility of being the responsible oldest child that i’ve been my entire life.
unfortunately, you can’t let your heart go so long without any attention (or solely the attention you give it while travelling alone on vacation 3 months a year), or it becomes numb and immobile. at some point, your heart says enough. enough is enough. i’m taking over. and suddenly, those small tastes of heart based decision making that you’ve allowed yourself on lone vacations, start infiltrating your day-to-day. they start seeping into your waking decisions, your work decisions, and your social decisions. they start stopping you in your steps, and making you reconsider things you've done for years, and years, and years. suddenly, the life you’ve been living seems to be logical, methodical, planned.... and entirely not what you truly want.
so at what point in life do we throw caution to the wind, and start deciding on things that make us truly happy? what is it about the future that causes an innate fear? what prevents us from taking those giants leaps, giant steps? why are we afraid of picking ourselves up, admitting we made a wrong decision, and dusting ourselves off to move forward?
and when the only consideration that was beginning to keep me from making my decision, was 'what will i do when i arrive?'; 'what will my job be?'; 'how will i be defined?'... that's when i knew - whatever it was, i would figure it out. the job would come. for the first time in my life, i was going to just do something because my heart told me to.

 so who knows what it will be. it definitely won't be a responsible job - it won't be a 9-5 (for now); it won't be a high paying job, or a job that comes with benefits (though, those would be nice coincidences). instead, i'm looking for fun. i'm looking for a mental break... and most of all, i'm looking for something that gives me time for myself, gives me time for things that make me happy, and time for things that i love. 

decision making with the heart

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.
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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?' 
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.

how i got where i'm going

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 first one relates to my decision to leave the corporate 9-5 world that i had fallen into.
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 i was a sociology major. I made grades out of ripping corporations to shreds, and turning my pierced nose up at people who committed to 9-5 lifestyles. however, through a series of events following my post graduate degree, I found myself walking into a large building in the middle of downtown Toronto, wearing tailored pants and a blazer, wondering to myself, ‘how did i get here?’.
I could (and managed to) convince myself that I enjoyed what I was doing – I work with great people (for the most part), days go by quickly (for the most part), I was able to be involved in projects that I have initiated and enjoy (for the most part). I am highly respected, totted for being mobile in the ranks, and someone who has become friends with quite a few people in the workplace. I’m sure I have my haters – those who could do without me, those who don’t appreciate my go-getter attitude, and those who think I’m out of place. but for the most part, people like me, and the work I do.
however, it’s not difficult for those around me to see that my work is not my passion. I am proud of the work I do, and I think it’s vital that I complete my tasks in a way I can be proud of. but, with that being said, it’s certainly not what I dreamt about as a child; it’s not what I envisioned when I was a little girl, dreaming of all the things I could do when I ‘grew up’.

so, when it occurred to me on a fairly monumental (to me) birthday one year, that I have in fact ‘grown up’, I realized that I was stuck in place. a hamster on a wheel. on the proverbial ‘merry-go-round’ of life – moving up and down, but watching the same sights again and again and again as I circled in place.
I found myself staring at a computer screen, writing emails to people I didn’t know, who made me frustrated/angry/sad/upset on a daily basis. and the thing that bothered me most? I was allowing these people to determine my mood – people whom I had never met.
it triggered something for me – if I was going to be spending 50 hours a week doing something, it should be something I’m passionate about; something that matters to me; something that I enjoy thinking about when I’m on vacation. not a job that I find myself stagnant in, just waiting for the right oppourtunity to come along.
my issue was, ‘where do I start?’ in working my 9-5 with pride, I found myself working frequently until 8, 9, or 10 at night. this left little time to do laundry, see friends, make a healthy dinner, do grocery shopping, let alone focus on what my passions were, and where I was to go with them once I figured it out.
always a planner, I made some plans. I planned to work on my website; I planned to contact stores; I planned to design, and sell and do all of these things that I needed to do to move forward with a legitimate business.
and then I stopped myself. I put it all aside. I stopped, and looked at the paperwork, the beads, the computer and the planners, the business card designs, the contact info and the location scouting notes in front of me. and I realized – before I could live with a new business, supporting my worldwide travels, and my need for flexibility, creativity, and longevity, I needed to determine what my passion was, and what it was I should be doing daily in order to make that passion part of my day-to-day life.
what is it I love to do?
I once heard a quote: “whatever it is you do while you are procrastinating, is what you should do for the rest of your life”. so I thought, ‘what do I do when I procrastinate?’ I blog. I write. I imagine. I create in many ways – designing, drawing, painting, decorating. I write poetry and fiction. I sing, and I listen. I admire everything that is creative about the world we live in. I sit, and imagine, and I walk and dance. I produce.
so why then, was I allowing myself to sit at a desk, and spin in circles – never creating, imagining, producing – while I solve other people’s problems? i had let myself step onto the merry-go-round, in hopes of solving huge problems, and creating plans for corporate social responsibility - instead, i found that the ride never stopped long enough to let me see if my surroundings have changed, or if i had actually moved anywhere.
i spend a lot of time thinking. time when i should be working. either in my 9-5, or working on my passions. thinking about where I am, where I should be, and what I’m doing en route. I think about what I want, who I am, and who I want to be perceived as.
and finally, it all culminated. what i was doing daily, in my 9-5 was not right. it wasn't good for me, my physical health, my mental health, or who i wanted to be in 5, 10, 15 years.
and so, i made a huge decision. a decision to quit it all, and start fresh - with nothing.
no plan. no job. no apartment. just a strong head and a full heart.
and that's where it all began.

 [next: the one where i decide where to go]