I am the Mist.

I know it's been a reoccurring post here on my ol' bloggy, but it's a reoccurring theme in my life as of late. The constant battle to feel comfortable.

This past weekend I was sitting in the back row at a theater watching the dancers from ADA, the studio I work for, compete in their first competition of the year. I sat there for a good hour, just by myself. I didn't mind, I really enjoying dancing, especially young dancers because I think they have so much potential and it's refreshing to see young people dedicated and putting their whole life into something. 

After a while, I realized something. As long as I sit here, nobody will know I'm here. The people shuffling in and out of the theater, they'd look at me but nobody knew me, nobody really knew I was there. To them, I'm a stranger, they don't care. But then again, to this entire city, I'm a stranger. I'm stuck in this stranger's skin.

Courtesy of Jartweb.

The day before this moment, a co-worker turned to me and laughed. She said that if she didn't have to be at the competition, she wouldn't be and here I am, voluntarily at the competition being supportive of everyone and enjoying myself. That's when I realized that I'm only a fleeting moment in these peoples' lives. In three years, they won't remember me but forever, this will be a huge part of my life. I will forever remember Toronto in fondness because I found people that made me feel accepted. But, with no negative feelings towards anyone I'm referencing, I'm like a sliver to them: stuck in the shallow folds of their skin but will soon be plucked out and forgotten about. And that made me feel truly like a wallflower (and you know my obsession with The Perks of Being a Wallflower), the word just seems to fit me. 

But it's not all bad. Over the past few years, I've become this observer. I stand off to the sit, occasionally stepping into the circle, but essentially I just observe people. I get to know names and families and personalities. I catch bits and pieces of their lives and form a whole story based on what I observe. In my mind, these people are quite real. They go to school, go to work, have friends and relationships and it's all in my mind. I live in half and half: half imaginary and half reality. If I ever do become a fiction writer, I'll sure have some good material for characters.

Maybe that's just what I'm destined to be: the Observer. Like an official career title, I'll go through life, effecting little and observing a lot. Then, when it's time, I'll document all my stories in a historical fiction kind of way, maybe a memoir (if my life is ever important enough to record). And all my characters will be based upon the people whom I have met along the way and who have changed me, even if they don't know they have or don't care that they have.

It comes this time of year, when I start becoming nostalgic and emotional. It's time to start thinking about moving, it's time to start moving parts of me while other parts want to hold onto what I have here. But the reality is is that it's time to start mentally packing, to start distancing myself and preparing to be in a strange place again. 

I see myself like a mist in the fall. It creeps in, coating everything in a blanket of distortion. Then once the sun comes up, I dissipate. You'll remember me as something that was there for a fleeting moment and now is gone.

Illegal Aliens.

I will give you this, Canada. You seem to be one friendly place.

Not as in, everyday life is overly friendly. I do encounter a few rude people now and again, like anywhere else in the world. It's the overall feel of the country that I've noticed.

Source.

Canada seems to pride itself on accepting others. Not in a 'citizens of the world' aspect, but in a you want to live here, then live here, kind of way. The United States, on the other hand, I believe to be a very selfish country. Below are my top three observations on this: 

1. Canadians seem to be okay with the fact that other people want to live here, and they show it: The subway cars are lined with signs advertising immigration lawyers, immigration hot lines and immigration support. There's a sign I always seem to look at that tells you all the reasons why you belong in Canada.

Would you see advertisements like these in the United States? I don't think so. I don't know why, either. Shouldn't we brag about the fact that so many people want to leave their countries to come be with us? If I had to choose between moving to Canada or the United States and I wasn't already from the United States, I probably would choose Canada. Yeah, taxes are high and it's bloody expensive but damn it could be worth it.

Source.

2. People are okay with diversity: I have never lived somewhere where my friend group consists of so many different races and languages. The best part? All of these people are from other places and recently moved here too. 

I am going to be totally honest right now and say that I was a little shocked at first seeing so many Middle Eastern, Asian, Africa, South American, etc people. There have been times when being white has been the minority. I am not racist or anything but growing up in an environment where "the token black kid" was a normal thing (because there wasn't much diversity even though we were open to it) and winding up in a location where roles are reversed was a bit shocking at first.

I'm used to it now and I really love it. It makes conversations a little more then 2 sided. With all the different opinions, backgrounds, languages and beliefs, it makes for some interesting dialogue.

3. The different languages are so prominent: Through the course of my lifetime, I've heard many people say many times "If you live here, learn English!" Yes, most schools require some time spent studying another language but it's mostly, well almost, never practiced outside of those classes and certainly almost never required anywhere else. Comparatively, Americans know nothing about other languages.

During my (so far) short stay here in Canada, oh the languages I've heard! I've heard more languages on a morning subway ride then I think I heard living in Oregon. So many interesting ones too! And I have never heard or seen or read anything derogatory towards those who speak multiple languages. I love the idea of a French immersion school, too. Mainly because I think kids that learn a second (or third or forth) language are so ahead of their game.

The world I'm used to isn't like this. We want uniformity and everyone to be like us. But we don't see the beauty behind the different.