suburban malaise
After my physiology lecture, I sat in an outdoor student commons to finish eating the penne primavera I bought during the 10 minute lecture break, scraping up the last bits of zucchini and red pepper into my mouth. I hadn’t yet explored the trail but it seemed to invite me, so instead of going home immediately, I followed it. At the bottom is a forest and a flowing river. In the distance, a girl smoked a cigarette while pacing along the bank. A group of boys skipped stones.
I walked through the trail for more than half an hour. When I returned to campus, the sky was cantaloupe-orange, the sun sinking into the horizon. I felt untangled by the water and trees and open land.
I like it a lot at UofT. I feel that the campus compels seriousness, thoroughness. I feel more committed to doing things right instead of deviating unnecessarily, which is why I've enjoyed studying. But I also feel isolated. Some days I commute and attend class and come home without having spoken a word to anyone. I feel that I’m watching the quintessential university experience happen all around me, without knowing how to be a part of it.
We were given commencement letters and speeches and emails about all the ways we were on the cusp of major change. How a clear demarcation would form in the timeline of our life. After graduating, my friends left our hometown for school in the US, Vancouver, Waterloo, Kingston, elsewhere in the province. But out of the batch of people I’ve known since I was a child, I’m the only one who still lives in our neighbourhood. I haven’t moved across the continent yet. Haven’t decorated a dorm room. Haven’t partied or hiked with a group of friends. The hardest part about staying where you’ve been rooted is feeling left behind.
While on a walk, a grandma told her toddler to call me 姐姐. I beamed. There is a kind of domestic serendipity facilitated by the suburbs, because people come here to raise children and dogs. The ordinariness makes me feel at ease. But lately, I mostly just feel infuriated. I’m on the periphery of downtown Toronto. I have visited New York City and San Francisco and loved both of them. I’m well-acquainted with the effect that discovering the big world has on people, injecting us with unlimited energy and the audaciousness to inflict ourselves onto the world. I’m afraid of being stuck somewhere too comfortable for too long, because I won’t be 18 forever. I want something different. Novelty, people, zest.
been reading more poetry by Mary Oliver, and more recently Carl Phillips ! I love this poem of his:
