Novelty

When I made the choice to move my life from Vancouver back to my hometown, I was very nervous. For whatever reason, I have often found myself caught in the judgmental thought that when someone moves back home, it's because they are giving up on the bigger world, which I have felt ashamed for thinking. I know tons of people who live in my community who grew up here and have amazing businesses and lives. Maybe it was the city life talking. Maybe I just never thought I would ever have a reason to go back.  

Having been back now for several years, I am still at a dissonance. I miss the bustle of the city, the variety of the restaurants, bars, lounges, gyms, sports and concert arenas, etc. It is rare that I get to say to someone "Did you see that new place that opened up?" Sadly, over the past few decades it is rare that a new business will make it in our small community. We are slowly trying to find creative ways to change that. For example, Food Trucks have become very popular and are thriving. The lower overhead and ability to pick up and move makes that option more accessible. And to be fair, since my family moved here in 1997, I think I have noticed more change in our downtown core in the past few years than there has been before. Although I can’t say I was paying a ton of attention to the economic and social developments of my community before High School.

When it comes to this place, it's not about quantity, it's about quality. I get that. But variety is really about quantity. It is about newness. About being somewhere you have never been, experiencing something new for the thrill of it. I have a vow to myself that I go somewhere that I have never been before every year, more than one place if I can. It doesn't have to be a big trip. It could be camping on a new beach, driving a few hours to a little town I have never visited, or a grander adventure. I yearn for novelty. In people, in experiences, and I am greedy about wanting them to be at my fingertips. That is probably a product of my generation. I may not have had a cell phone glued to my hand until after High School, but I sure do now, and it makes anything I want to know available at the push of a button. I believe the technical term is “spoiled.” I do hope not permanently so.

In my new home, we have many plans coming up that will be novel experiences for me. Building a house. Planning a wedding. Creating a family. Things I look forward to that I am so excited about! But on the daily, I find it challenging in a small town to find something new and different, something entertaining, and also with people I can connect with who are within 5-10 years of my age and in the same life stage. The latest census data shows that 30% of our Island’s population is over the age of 65. That is compared to 23% on Vancouver Island,  and 16% in Metropolitan Vancouver. Not surprising, since the working age population should be higher in urban areas where the heart of commerce is throbbing. I did find a VIHA study from 2010 that identified two major population groups on SSI:

·      A retired, wealthier population with fewer local personal supports (friends & family) who have recently moved to Salt Spring Island;

·      Longtime residents, often less wealthy and younger.

I would say that is still true today. That second group is where I lie, and I tell you, it doesn’t seem to be getting any bigger. What I am worried about is as our population ages, who is going to take on the jobs that keep our community going? (I know this problem must be effecting a lot of communities across Canada right now, and I need to read into it a lot more.) It seems every chance we get to make progress here is voted down. I get it, preserving this paradise should be the most important mandate of our community, I just think there needs to be a better balance struck, or in a few decades or less, we will have created somewhere that is so difficult for young people and families to move to, that we won’t see our population sustained, and our community will struggle. I am sure it’s happened before and we have survived, but it does make me nervous never having experienced it before.

Having moved away for 8 years and lived not just in bigger cities but on another continent even, it's tough to compare what we quaintly refer to as small towns, and cities. You can't really. The Island life and the big city life are apples and oranges, sawdust and concrete, candle light and fluorescence. It’s not really fair or realistic to compare them. I suppose I just wish it was easier to have the best of both worlds. Affluence has a lot to do with that, but that is a whole other discussion of economics and politics that I am too far from informed to delve into.

I never made up excuses for why I moved away from the city. I moved for love. I chose to live here, and most of the time, I love it. I love the open spaces, the friendly faces. I am so blessed with what I have. I have to be honest though, I do miss being able to roll out my front door and find something new a few blocks in any direction. But then again, did I really take advantage of it enough when I had it? No. Never know what you’ve got until it’s gone, right?

 So, aside from being greedy and whining about it here, what do I intend to do about it? I will admit that the first 3 out of 4 years that I have been back, I really struggled with this. I struggle with it still, but less so. I do miss the hub-bub of the city, but I also find myself annoyed at traffic, lines, overcrowded sidewalks and the like when I go back to the city. I have shifted.

Our social dynamic is changing here too. We are going from wild young couples and singles to new families. I have been thinking about it a lot, and maybe the simple truth is that I am scared. I am scared of the changes that are happening and not finding enough novelty of the type that I am used to is the excuse I hide behind. I am really nervous to move into the next decade of my life. Having just turned 29, I know my twenties are quickly coming to an end. I can’t help but feel sometimes that this yearning for novelty is really just me mourning the end of an era, or perhaps a lingering sense of mortality. The knowing that whilst my youth is far from past, it is undeniably looking out into a time of more unknowns than it has been presented with in a long time. A future of questions. A bright one, but yet undefined.

It makes me think things like “Maybe I am too selfish to have children.” Maybe I don’t want to devote the next 20 years to sustaining someone else’s life, I want to keep living mine anyway I should so choose. I like to think that I will be able to balance it. To be able to breast feed and type at the same time, to wander our business making operational suggestions with a babe strapped to my front. I want to believe that my Amazonian heritage will rear up and inspire me to find a way to make it all happen. I am terrified to lose myself in someone else, even if that someone is birthed from me or chosen as my life partner. I want to be strong enough for them, and for myself; I owe it to her not to lose her. I’ve worked too hard to build her up just to watch her crumble down again, to fade into the shadows. I’m mostly scared that I am just not strong enough. I don’t know that, but it is a real fear for me. In a small town, where I don’t personally feel like I can just call up a different friend every whim I get, I worry that I will feel isolated when I become a mother. I am trying, taking it to an almost embarrassing level, to be more social, but I can’t force anyone to want to spend time with me.  I see very inspiring mothers in my age group, who have a commitment to themselves to go out once a week without the kids to have a night to themselves. I have also watched some new mothers disappear, or at least seem like they have lost bits of themselves.

Honestly, this conversation has gone in a way different direction than I intended, and I am not sure really what I have accomplished. I clearly needed it to though. I so often find myself looking outwards for answers, when I should be looking in. If I am craving novelty, I need to create it, or at the very least take responsibility for my choices. I am endlessly grateful for my life. I suppose whatever it is, a search for purpose, adventure, answers, I need to stop worrying and engage before I miss what is happening right in front of me. After all, life is not a question, but living it is the answer.