How did I get Here?

A visit today to the West Village to see the city's Best Paediatric Dentist got me to thinking. We sat in an tiny waiting room filled with children and mothers (although a dad did walk in at the end). The mothers stood far from their children. Only interacting when it seemed unavoidable. The interaction with me was nonexistent. I remember the early days in New York when that would have affected me personally: was I not hip enough, cool enough, rich enough, important enough? Today it made me feel sorry for these women.

In this little room I listened as women spoke loudly and rudely into their mobile phones. As one woman flipped through the pages of Home & Country, she bragged about the renovations to her home; luckily a neighbour was renovating so she could see how the place would look gutted. Another woman yelled out at her sons from the next room as I watched them fight and spit in each other's faces. Then the conversation moved into the actual room. Two families began to compare notes on their respective trips to Disney Land: favourite rides, food they ate. One mom asked a child from the other family, "What did you do in Florida?" "Buy things," he responded.

Listening to these mother's around me made my heart twinge with disappointment. The house wasn't good enough, the trips were not fun enough, the dentist too busy and crowded. These "successful" women were not happy with their lives. Yet here I am, thinking I have climbed out and reached the top of the heap: rubbing shoulders with Manhattan's private school kids; finally getting the dental treatment all children deserve, with the other non-ethnic, upper/middle-class, possession-rich denizens of NYC. And how did I get here?

My dream of a home, was as a place to raise my children: to eat Sunday Dinner with the family, Saturday Breakfast cooked by dad, and Friday Nite Pizza with the neighbours. Now it has become the end all purpose of my life: home-ownership to show it off? to buy things to put in it? to renovate it? to show it off? to say the address, the city, the country..? Just, to buy it. All of a sudden, it all felt so shallow: to have the dream, to realize the dream, if it only means continued dissatisfaction with life.

As we waited for our turn with the dentist I read stories with my children. We laughed over the pictures, discussed the story-line, and saw the message in the words of the authors. Have I become an adult? Can I still hear the tinkling of the bell? Will I ever be invited to Authentic Fairy school? Have I become so grown-up that I cannot see the sheep inside the box, the elephant in the boa? No, "I will keep my eyes on the rising sun and picture a world filled with dreams and imaginationing".

Wheren

Synergistic Emotion

It has been the most synergistically emotional of any of my moves. In the past, yes, I have definately felt emotional: mostly the anxiety, anger and terror of ripping my roots out of the ground, once again. But, the past moves were very individualistic. Very self-centered; completely focused on me and how I would feel. I never considered how my move would affect those around me. The people I had become associated with, become attached to, become a part of the lives of...

The first people I told responded with such dismay, that I was angered. Why wasn't she simply happy that I was leaving. Why was she talking about the loss for her child, and for my child? Oh, I realized as I thought more about it; she is sad I am leaving. She was sad, and so were other people. Shocked that I would ever leave our community of friends, family, and classmates.

This shared sadness was new to me. I had always left when everyone else was leaving. Or, as in the last Escape from New York, we told no one. Not even our parents. Not until the last moment. Many friends we left behind without a word, without a good-bye. I never gave anyone a chance to tell me how it felt for them to be left by me. I did not think that my life held that much significance in other peoples hearts and minds. I am touched, truly. But, I am also that much more sadened by others sadness.

I started to try to balance the sadness out with excitement by telling strangers about the move. "Oh, that sounds exciting," they would tell me. And, "I wish I was going off on an adventure."

And maybe that is what it was, with the friends as well. Not so much a sadness, but a disappointment with their own disatisfaction with life. As I have been reading in Ferriss' book, it is not so much "happiness" that we seek from our lives, but "excitement". To quote my own mother after I told her the news (yes, I've told my family this time that I am leaving): "You certainly have an exciting life."

So much of our upbringing is about setting a course for the future, rather than a course for adventure. Settling down, setting roots in one place to create stability and familiarity. However, familiarity breeds discontent. Being too focused on what we have known for 10, 20 even 60 years, makes it so difficult to find new friends. It is impossible to change our minds about what we believe to be true. To understand another person's viewpoint - to be open to the experience of life.

This move is for that reason. To open to the East. My mind and culture has been moulded solely on the land of the Anglo-Saxon Protestant world. From Canada, to the USA, to London, England. I have met many people and learned of other cultures, however, I have never been immersed completely. Now I will immerse myself in this culture that I have admired and studied through religious beliefs, meditation techniques, martial arts and medical practices. Let's see where it takes me and my family this time; let's see what new emotions I will experience.