Growing up in Madurai, India, I didn’t know much about the outside world beyond my hometown. When I was 10, my family moved to Egypt. We would spend five years there before moving to Sudan. Once I completed my secondary education in Sudan, I would depart to Canada for higher studies. Meanwhile, my family continued to travel around the world to Sierra Leone and UK, before finally returning to India.
The near-nomadic lifestyle my family adopted had its fair share of advantages and disadvantages. On one end, I obtained the best resources available for my education. Experiencing different cultures widened my perspective and helped in my personal growth as a young adult but it was also difficult when I had to confront cultural differences as I became exposed to multiple others.
On the other hand, moving from one place to another was not easy. For every hello, there was a goodbye. I did not like that. Suffice to say, completing my doctoral studies in Edmonton last year, the looming reality of a move to another city was not an exciting prospect.
Having lived in Edmonton for nearly twelve years, I did not want to leave. Newsflash! I had grown to dislike change. Some of my most cherished memories from university, like meeting my best friends and my wife, all happened in Edmonton. All of this made Edmonton, a second home of sorts. So moving, even if it were only three hours away to Calgary, was a difficult pill to swallow.
I wanted to resolve this issue and I found my solution in the most unexpected of sources: my baby daughter. She has the power to induce what I call an oxymoronic reality. In watching her grow and looking after her, she makes me feel that years have gone by when in reality no time has passed at all. Einstein’s relativity can take the backseat when it comes to her. In fact, daily life is a dynamic endeavor with her in the picture and change is the new normal.
Now they say that with age comes a reluctance towards change. Ironically, change is the defining theme to my daughter’s growth. It comes in a multitude of forms like separation anxiety, teething, learning to walk, etc. One way or another, I had to get used to it.
Weirdly enough, when push came to shove, I found myself willing to confront whatever my daughter had to throw at me head-on, without any uncertainty on my part and especially if it meant her happiness and comfort. It is in that spirit I realized, spending the last few months juggling between a one-man unpacking team and father, that change is not harmful. Rather, it helps maintain a healthy relationship between one’s past, present, and future.
Farewells and new beginnings will always be a part of this and I found comfort in knowing that whatever is lost to the past lives on in the present that I get to experience. My past made my present possible.
All this reflection brought me back to a quote/personal motto of mine back in high school, “Cherish the past, live the present, and happily anticipate the future.” Funnily enough, it is only now that I have realized the true meaning behind this statement. Better late than never!
Having now moved to Calgary, there is much to anticipate for the future, not to mention whatever new problem my baby daughter will throw at me and my wife tomorrow. In all of this, I take my misgivings in a positive light and focus on what is most important: the present, where I am now in pursuit of my dreams, growing alongside my baby daughter, and indulging in the changes that will be wonderful memories to cherish in the future.
The Pensive Reverie 