Transition

I am feeling very happy tonight. It feels so good to write that. I just got home from skiing -- downhill! For the first time in about 30 years!

A friend had given me some tips before I went. "Be aggressive with the mountain," he said. "Punch through your turns." I laughed out loud when I found myself repeating those mantras on the slopes of Quebec's bunny hills. I have to say, though, they did help. On my third try, I even managed to make it down the particularly steep (for me) slope of an intermediate run without falling. I cheered myself all the way to the lodge.

I LOVE driving in the snow. My sister and I were talking the other day about our adolescent experiences of driving back and forth between the farm and town on a bad Alberta winter's day -- alone in the car with dry snow blowing across the secondary highway, -25°C, the road almost indistinguishable from the ditches. That was scary, yet we did it because how else was one supposed to get home? Or, more importantly, into town to hang out with friends? After those experiences, milder winter driving just seems like playtime. So much fun.

On Saturday, my sister and I skated the length of the canal together, and then replenished ourselves with beaver tails and tea, cancelling out any caloric benefits we may have achieved. Sunday I went snowshoeing with a new friend and her friend. I actually have friends here now -- plural!

A job, friends, my own bedroom -- after five months I am finally enjoying my time here.

When I began work in November, I met with one of my new colleagues so that he could introduce me to their contact management system. He was very formal in his presentation -- had a PowerPoint deck, showed me the agenda for our session, then introduced himself and invited me to do the same. Jean Roberth works on projects that help IT professionals planning to immigrate to Canada prepare themselves for Canadian IT occupations and work environments. After I introduced myself briefly, telling him of my cross-country move, he started talking about culture shock. "I think that's what I'm going through," I said, and then to my dismay burst into tears. He was remarkably understanding. He shifted his presentation, pulling up some slides on our new topic, and gave me an overview of the emotion roller coaster that I was on.

On some level I knew that there were differences between cultures on the east and west coasts, but naïvely I didn't realize that it was a big enough difference to affect me. To be fair, what I experienced would probably be better termed as Transition Shock, as it was the culmination of a series of eighteen months of ife changes. The cultural differences between Vancouver and Ottawa (e.g. people here do not hug -- although if they're French, they do a fake kiss.) was just the icing on the cake.

When Jean Roberth showed me his presentation on culture shock, he confirmed my fear that when someone who has experienced culture shock in a host location returns home, s/he goes through the emotional nose dive again. After further research, though, I learned that people who adapt well to the host culture also have an easier time returning home. Until then, I had been holding myself back from Ottawa, afraid that if I got comfortable it would be harder to move back to the west coast; it would be some kind of betrayal of my true home. Learning that tidbit gave me permission to actually enjoy my time here.

It's still taken a few weeks to get there. I've also had to recognize what a chunk out of my confidence the changes of the past year and a half have wrought. I'm reclaiming that, and with it has come a big piece of joy. I am an imperfect, messy human being, and right now I'm okay with that. I'm okay with being a living work in progress, a little cell in the body of the world, one that may be limited in my capabilities, may never be perfect, but hey, that's part of the deal, baby. A little cell can't do everything or be everything to everyone -- in fact, it shouldn't be. It has a job to do, even if it may not fully understand what that job is. And it needs to appreciate that all the other little cells have their jobs, too.

I am enjoying the work of exploring what makes me happy, having new adventures, meeting someone who feels like a dear friend the second time I see her, doing things I haven't done for decades -- decades! -- and then trying something absolutely new. I am very grateful for this adventure, for this time with my family here, and for new perspectives. I am curious about how I will feel when I finally do visit the west coast again, about where and when I will finally feel at home. Even if I move back, I will have a very different life from the one I left over a year ago, and I am very happy about that.

Copyright © 2011 Lynn Thorsell, All rights reserved.