I’ve been thinking about the suburbs a lot lately. I’ve been thinking a lot about what they mean to me and about me. Often, I feel the need to defend myself for making that choice. I say something like I live in the suburbs of 50 years ago. Which is true in the sense that Calgary has grown so much that I am about half way between the core and the end of the city. My house is 50 years old. But, more than defending that choice to other people, I need to defend it to myself simply because I never really imagined things going this way.
I guess the real problem is coming to terms with how plain I really am. When I was 18 I was sure I was something special. Meant for something great or meant to do something great. University was a bit of a stall for all of this. I was studying to be something great. A great writer, I hope(d). Over the last few years, entering the real world my ideas have been challenged. I worked 9-5 jobs. I certainly wasn’t producing anything great. And I have lived in a city where greatness is more often than not measured by wealth. And the culmination of all these expectations and realities was topped by moving to the burbs.
The suburbs represent a plan. A plain plan. Societies plan. A white-collar plan. I move to the suburbs, have a job, pay my taxes and have kids. Frankly, all of those ideas seem awful and some are terrifying (mostly kids). I’m about as on-grid as possible. I’m living up to the dream of every generic white male. I even painted my fence white. But it was a little off-white. So that makes it better.
So there has been a certain amount of dissonance between what I thought I might be living and what I am living. But I’ve also had to come to the conclusion that even though I hold extremely liberal ideologies, I am actually quite a conservative person. And that I am white and male and boring. And so maybe I should just live that life. But I still can’t help the fact that I do want more.
And ultimately I think the real problem is not that I live in the suburbs or that I am living some plain life and not a great life. My real problem is that I spend all my time planning for when I will have a great life that I forget to make it great now.
I think the suburbs can be incredibly pacifying when everything is made so easy. But the suburbs aren’t the problem. I am not going to be any better or worse of a writer if I lived in a small condo in Kensington (trendy neighbourhood in Calgary). I just need to be great where I am now.
I have something to be passionate about and that’s creating. So that’s what I’m working on. Finding ways to create and I’m not going to plan for it anymore—when I have the right desk, or the right computer, or the right lighting—I’m just going to start. So there is a lot you can look forward to here.
Something to be passionate about
I’ve been thinking about the suburbs a lot lately. I’ve been thinking a lot about what they mean to me and about me. Often, I feel the need to defend myself for making that choice. I say something like I live in the suburbs of 50 years ago. Which is true in the sense that Calgary has grown so much that I am about half way between the core and the end of the city. My house is 50 years old. But, more than defending that choice to other people, I need to defend it to myself simply because I never really imagined things going this way.
I guess the real problem is coming to terms with how plain I really am. When I was 18 I was sure I was something special. Meant for something great or meant to do something great. University was a bit of a stall for all of this. I was studying to be something great. A great writer, I hope(d). Over the last few years, entering the real world my ideas have been challenged. I worked 9-5 jobs. I certainly wasn’t producing anything great. And I have lived in a city where greatness is more often than not measured by wealth. And the culmination of all these expectations and realities was topped by moving to the burbs.
The suburbs represent a plan. A plain plan. Societies plan. A white-collar plan. I move to the suburbs, have a job, pay my taxes and have kids. Frankly, all of those ideas seem awful and some are terrifying (mostly kids). I’m about as on-grid as possible. I’m living up to the dream of every generic white male. I even painted my fence white. But it was a little off-white. So that makes it better.
So there has been a certain amount of dissonance between what I thought I might be living and what I am living. But I’ve also had to come to the conclusion that even though I hold extremely liberal ideologies, I am actually quite a conservative person. And that I am white and male and boring. And so maybe I should just live that life. But I still can’t help the fact that I do want more.
And ultimately I think the real problem is not that I live in the suburbs or that I am living some plain life and not a great life. My real problem is that I spend all my time planning for when I will have a great life that I forget to make it great now.
I think the suburbs can be incredibly pacifying when everything is made so easy. But the suburbs aren’t the problem. I am not going to be any better or worse of a writer if I lived in a small condo in Kensington (trendy neighbourhood in Calgary). I just need to be great where I am now.
I have something to be passionate about and that’s creating. So that’s what I’m working on. Finding ways to create and I’m not going to plan for it anymore—when I have the right desk, or the right computer, or the right lighting—I’m just going to start. So there is a lot you can look forward to here.