Anticlimactic Ramblings of Me, Myself, and my Mother

My Mother keeps telling me, “wherever you go, there you are”. I roll my eyes at its redundancy every time she says it, but I think what she's trying to say is that my discontent in Edmonton is a state of mind. That I can make anywhere my home if I try. That it's not Edmonton's fault that I hate it. And she's right. It's not Edmonton's fault, it's mine. But I don't want to try. Don't get me wrong, Edmonton's shortcomings are many, but the only insurmountable one is the fact that I grew up here; and even that is only insurmountable because I'm making it so.

Living a sustainable life, one full of permaculture and direct action, would be difficult here. It would always be an uphill battle, but it would be possible. There's something to be said for not taking the easy path. And if an anarcho-post-vegan wannabe revolutionary could win here, well then, we could win anywhere. But the thing is, even if I won here, even if I could be the kind of activist I want to be here, even if I could build a life of permaculture and direct action with beets growing year round in my very own earthship, my perspective of this city will always be skewed by my experience of it as a child. We've all had the experience of returning to a place from our childhood – an elementary school, a zoo, a playground, a childhood friend's house maybe – and been overwhelmed by how small it seems now that we're all grown up. That's what this whole city looks like to me. Landmarks that once seemed huge, intimidating, and full of mystery to me are now, upon my return as an adult, disappointingly anticlimactic. I know that if I were genuinely new to this city I'd be able to walk down Whyte Avenue, go into the downtown public library, explore the river valley, and be impressed. But because I knew these places as a child, they all just seem smaller than I remember.

It's different for my Mum, she grew up on the other side of Canada. She moved to Edmonton as an adult and made it her home. Wherever she went, there she was, and still is. (I'm still not sure that phrase makes any sense at all.) But I don't have that relationship with Edmonton, and never will. Any life I make here will always seem to me like a kind of failure. The anticlimactic disappointment I feel here is doing nothing to sweep me off my feet. And maybe I could overcome these feelings if I wanted to, but I don't. I don't want to end up in the same place I started. The circularity of it feels too easy, too predictable, too... anticlimactic.