Magdalena O!

Split me open
With devotion
You put your hands in
And rip my heart out
Eat the music
-Kate Bush

I’ve been attracted to everything outside of the city lately. Spending a day in *ville several weeks ago changed me. We drove on an empty road to the middle of nowhere, or seemingly the middle of nowhere to me into a crescent with trees and bushes all around. There was a farm house nearby which I ventured into but was quickly warned that it was private property. I knew this, but just wanted to explore anyway. The man looked menacing enough so I didn’t return, but instead layed on the gravel with the sun beating my face, my clothes and my legs. I played with the shrubs and tried to inhale as much of it in as I could. I realized then what a city dweller I have become. I was practically raised on a farm, but the city took over me the last decade. This weekend, I embraced going to visit my parents in Port Credit, going to North York to see my lover, and spending the day on Toronto Island. This morning my brother and I spent about 4 hours driving through Port Credit and the Waterfront Trail, getting lost in the trees, dipping our feet in a mini waterfall we found. Trying to communicate with ducks and watching skylines. Getting away from the city is my ultimate priority. I am going up to Wasaga Beach next week/end and I even get to spend part of it alone. I want to be alone with trees and the waterfalls. I don’t have interest in hanging out with my friends at this moment, not because they bore me but because I need to find ‘down’ time, I need to not get up in the morning, go to work, go out, go to yoga, go out, do more work and somewhere in that time go to sleep. I can’t find the balance of relaxation in the city. I would love to, but I am just working out how to get to that mountain, and maybe when I do I can try to become it.

I need to be invisible for a while.

… death turns into life.

I’ll always be the one that loses in the end. The woman always loses because it’s easier that way, because she can, because she puts her heart out in ways men just can’t.

Since I can remember I’ve wanted to leave this city. I came here as a youngen and never really left. I’ve travelled Europe many times, but I’ve never lived anywhere else but here since I moved. Yet, I’ve never really attached myself to it as a place of ‘home’. I’ve allowed ropes to tug at the roots so they don’t expand any further like newly planted trees in the suburbs. Why have I been so afraid to admit to Canada? Admit to Toronto? I’m constantly asked about my background, and without hesitation, “Polish Jew” comes out. I can’t let go to include Canadian in my identity. I would place hundreds of adjectives but there would never be a place for Canadian. It’s a common thread that the Canadian identity is a mixed bag and nationalism is pronounced as admitting to any other ethinicity but Canadian.

Toronto is my home. (I must admit, it feel really strange to write that). It’s where I decided to stay when applying to university. I didn’t even apply to out of the city universities because if I wasn’t going to be in Toronto I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I craved Toronto and all my friends that lived in the city, everything that was the antithesis of the suburban life I hated in Mississauga. Toronto meant partying all night long, good music, better clothes shops, cafes, freedom and the inspiration to explore myself and not be an outcast. And Toronto provided me with all that. It provided me with the lifestyle I wanted, with the experiences I imagined to have. But after a couple of years of living in Toronto, the novelty of partying and experimentation with drugs, art and music all the time wore off and I came to be bored with Toronto and slagged it relentlessly.

When I met my boyfriend at the end of 2003, one of the first exchanges we had was of how we both wanted to get out of this city and move to Europe. I explained how badly I’ve been wanting to move to Europe, something that became more pronounced after my first backpacking trip in the summer of 2002 and going to New York a few months after that. I became obsessed with moving to Europe, with living there, with being in my homeland. Yet, the thought of living in my actual homeland of Poland never crossed my mind. It was always London, or Vienna, or Paris or something much more grandiose than Toronto (in the way I saw it).

….so much more to fill in here…

I’m sorry Toronto. I love you. I love that you’ve raised me and taken care of me. I’m so spoiled to have you by my side. You have made my life so easy and for that I shouldn’t blame you, I should be able to take that and move on. I’m afraid of moving in the same way a kid with a car and the basement to themselves with workaholic parents just can’t seem to move out. I was always so self-assured in how much better my life will be when I leave here, when I leave the ease and monotony that I’m surrounded with. But I was wrong, my tunnel vision got me. Now I see, now I am excited for you Toronto. I am excited about the music scene I am in, something I’ve also slagged the last few years. I’ve finally come to a supportive group of like-minded friends. I can call up anyone at anytime and have someone by my side. I can bike to any place I want safely. I am understood. I am inspired by you Toronto. But at this time, I must let you know I have to leave. Maybe it is better that I leave during this time? But I’m not rushing out the door, I’m going to take my time, I won’t be haste with my goodbye.

…..so much more to write….

Today I went to my first Ashtanga class at a gym. It was my first time at a gym and I felt really awkward. Everyone had Nike trainers on and was sweating more profusely than I do during heavy petting. They all seemed to know what to do and where to go. The receptionist showed me around, and I kept dropping my things on the tour and she would just smile at me trying sincerely not to be patronizing. The bathrooms even had mouthwash! The sink basins were something out of Conde Nast magazine, and everyone’s casual clothes screamed ‘yuppie financial analyst.’ I’m there because of my free membership. The class was totally different than the gym. It was in the basement and it was really serene. Although it was an Ashtanga Foundation class, I found it was pretty challenging because it was just several poses repeated. Downward dog, upward facing dog and plank were the main ones we worked on throughout the 1.5 hours. I enjoyed the slow pace of the asanas because it allowed me to reflect on each breath and its impact on every part of my body. We held variations of the warrior pose as well, which always has me on the verge of tears. I haven’t been to a yoga class in so long and it felt so ‘right’ being back. She stretched out our necks while we rested in shavasana. I always look like I just woke up after I get out of yoga. I enjoy seeing my eyes a bit puffy and my cheeks flushed in the mirror.

Synchronicity is happening all around me. Attending a yoga class today of all days was synchronicity. I’ve been more giving lately and not even consciously. I am happy. I am tired of holding on.