when I was a kid, my local mall had a big fountain in the middle of the building and it was my favourite part of going to the mall. that, the decorative chocolate pendants they perched atop the ice cream cones at laura secord, and the clearance section of the bay. the reason I loved the fountain was the act of peering into the bottom and laying eyes on the glittering mosaic of coins, the glint of a thousand or more quarters and dimes and nickels and sometimes the generous wish offering of a gold loonie. some part of me knew better than to leave my desires up to wishing on a fountain. I was always the kid that believed that just because you want something in life, doesn't mean you'll get it – and maybe you don't even deserve it.
my grandma, the deepest well of kindness, always a wishful thinker, couldn't have cared less about quarters as long as I believed in god. and I remember being 18 years old, writing essays about the old testament, picking apart biblical texts like a pomegranate – ripping through waxy flesh for a small dewy seed of ancient philosophy while my grandma called me once a week saying she'll pray for me if I won't go to church. at her open casket, my cousin came over and petted her hair, remarking that we had to fix it because the mortician did her hair in a way she would have hated. my cousin was right. it was a such a relieving moment of levity, and then my cousin started crying as she said, I just know she wasn't scared in the moments before her death, because she knew exactly where she was going.
I've been in a transition period for 6 months. to me it feels embarrassing to admit that because I feel like I should have gotten over the transition of moving back to hamilton already. in many ways, I have settled in – I have a beautiful, homey apartment that I share with the love of my life, a job I feel secure in, a yoga community that I see everyday and a consistent practice. but to be honest, there was so much more that transitioned for me than just the place I live. I didn't leave behind many friends in toronto because I didn't have many left. the entire network of friends I had dissolved, and most of this was intentionally initiated by me. I can't say with any genuineness that it was a bad idea for me to leave those friends behind, but the consequences hurt. my self-esteem has been challenged in so many ways this past year: friendship breakups, gaining weight from birth control, starting a new job that I had little experience in. it has all rested on my shoulders as a heavy weight. and I must give myself credit: I've done my best to make it lighter. but the simple fact that I am lonely rests as a quiet question in my head always: do I just not deserve friends?
I am such a quiet, naturally stand-offish person. I intimidate people, and being friendly and open doesn’t come naturally to me. if there is anything that I've wanted to take from my grandma above all else, it was her unfailing friendliness. she was a well of kindness; i am just simply a well, all of my thoughts kept underground.
during this transition period I've really wanted a fountain wish to grant me more friends and connection. but my wise and brooding child self knew that most things don't come to you fully formed: the universe can only grant opportunity. and as my pockets sag with change, I'm reminded that so many of us are peering into that fountain, craning our necks, while we could be taking a look around us.
if you can't change the world
change yourself