Once the honeymoon period faded (about 2 weeks in), my relationship with Rossland got a little complicated. The last time I posted a blog, I was feeling super good about how things were going and was all gung-ho, ready to write you a never-ending list of my favourite things about this place. But then I started to hate it.
I’ve actually written about a half dozen blog posts over the past few weeks, but you can’t read any of them because I am tired of spreading negativity. I do that enough to my poor coworkers, mother, and room mates. (Adrian and Fraser, you fucking saints, thank you for dealing with me!)
Lately (until today), I’ve given up on blogging altogether and have been doing my very very best to focus on positivity and healing. It’s involved deep breathing, a job change that puts me inside a few days a week, a series of drunken heart to hearts, a long walk in the forest, aggressive friending, yoga, and more.
I don’t want to dwell on any of this, but here is a point form list of the things that have been driving me insane:
- The stagnancy of not travelling and being somewhere new, doing something new every day
- The prevalence of “bro” culture, and lack of arts culture
- The cold
It’s only now that I’ve written that list down that I’ve noticed how it only has three items. It’s funny how so few thoughts can take over your psyche and make it seem like everything is hopeless.
Temperatures below -10, ski bros, and apartments might not ever become my best friends (neither will my dream community of writers that doesn’t exist), but I’m going to make it work here. I’m going to look past the surface, turn over all the stones, and find what I need from life in this place. Because why not? It’s got beauty, artistic souls, a job that really isn’t the worst thing imaginable, an opportunity for me to learn to love skiing again, and boozy potlucks for days.
For a long time, I’ve been obsessed with finding “a place I belong”, which is stupid because I am really fucking picky. The paradise entirely inhabited by hippie artists, free of vocal fans of anything I don’t like, with breathtakingly beautiful scenery, affordable housing, a mild climate and plenty to do in all likelihood doesn’t exist. But that doesn’t mean that the world isn’t an undeniably amazing place. I have a new goal, and that is to learn how to adapt and be myself wherever I happen to be.
Today I caught my reflection and noticed that even though I miss my windswept highway hair, I am rocking the greasy helmet hair. And even though I have to roll up the sleeves of my work jacket, I feel like it fits me. I am going to become who I need to be.