My living room is full of boxes. That’s all it is right now. Boxes and bags of my belongings that are all neatly (and not-so-neatly) packed up and ready to be transported away. By next Sunday, I will be homeless in Edmonton. This 600 square feet of space is my last home here. At least for now, and who knows if I’ll ever live in this wonderful city again.
Running up Victoria Park Hill today, I thought about a time about 5-6 years ago when I wouldn’t have been able to run two blocks without being so winded, I’d have that metallic blood taste in my mouth and be gasping for air. Those days are behind me. I feel them falling off my back like beads of perspire as I run up that hill, every time I run up that hill. Who I am now is someone who looks at who I was as a stepping stone. She was there for me to realize how much potential I had, and what I could accomplish if it was necessary to do so. I do think motivation is based on necessity. Where else could it possibly come from?
What else falls off my back as I run up a hill that connects the street where I live to the valley below it? The naysayers; the baggage; the images, reflections, faces, moods of my “old life” – the one that is virtually unrecognizable to me right now because in the last four years, I finally bothered to change something. Something was inherently broken in me and I fixed it; and more than that, I freed myself from the people who stood in my way in one way or another.
I’m heading now into my last-ever work week at my job. I can hardly believe it. That office where I’ve spent three years of my life, day in and day out – all the changes, the drama, new faces entering and old faces leaving, the ever-changing dynamic… that was my world; the people, the work I did, the stresses, the victories and pitfalls. It all ends in five days. This week ends a chapter of my life.