So as I count down my final few days in Canada, I am oddly calm. I suppose I should be rocketing off walls, but instead there’s a sort of Zen I seem to have acquired. It’s actually sort of off-putting. The forest is quiet. Too quiet.
It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I can’t help but wonder if there are any implications I’m not catching. I’m a little apprehensive about getting on that motorbike, especially having just watched some travel show host ride a rickshaw through Delhi traffic. But it’s more than that, and I think I’ve figured it out.
I’m going to miss it here. In the spring of ’07 I came home after two years in Asia, and for the first time I really appreciated all Toronto has to offer. I won’t get into all the details about why this city impressed me so much, but let’s just say I’ve rarely been bored since coming home.
So yeah, I’ll admit it. Part of my calm, my so-called Zen, is rooted in sadness. It’s restraining me from really expressing how exciting this is. I know I’ll be back, and for the most part things here will have remained the same, but there is a level of regret. It’s natural, I suppose, but feels strange.
At any rate, I love you all, and will miss you. So come meet me somewhere.