(Late Post: Summer 2017)
One of my all-time favourite TV shows is NBC’s Community, from creator Dan Harmon. It remains the only show I’ve ever willingly bought the DVD box set for. I remember randomly coming across the pilot episode one evening and thinking to myself, “This is hilarious!” A group of diverse characters who attend the same community college and who themselves form a community. Brilliant!
Like typical TV viewers, I generally just watched Community to be entertained; and it did that very well. I recently came to realize, however, that there was more to the show – a big fat (important) travelling message – that I had never quite clued in on until now, in doing a four-month internship away from home in Ottawa this summer: The key to discovering where your place is in this world lies in discovering where your community is.
And no, I’m not saying to go to community college. I am however suggesting that the people you’re with can really make a place you’re in.
Be it the country’s capital, Ottawa is a beautiful place: very clean, close to nature and outdoor activities, and very family-friendly. All great features which would seemingly make it the perfect place to live. Yet when people continually asked me, “How are you liking Ottawa?” I could only tell them the truth. It’s a great place – but it’s not for me.
For most of this summer, I’ve struggled to understand why I’ve felt this way: I rented a beautiful apartment on the edge of downtown, not too deep in the mix but not too far from it either. I have a fascinating job that has taught me lessons for my professional (and personal) career which I will carry with me forever. And I’ve been given the chance to relax and get in touch with my own self-care after a year of doing a lot that wasn’t always the best for me.
Yet, all I can recall feeling every other day this summer was just a strong want to return home and be with my loved ones. Shocking for me, the self-proclaimed lover of travels and eternal wanderer. Still, the feelings were there, and, as much as I tried to go out, meet new people and discover new spaces, they never went away.
Things became a bit clearer after attending a party with an old schoolmate. While there, I got into conversation with a young woman who reiterated to me my exact feelings, but from the opposite end. Unlike me, she had moved from Ottawa to Toronto to do her schooling. And unlike me, her core community of friends and family were here, not in Toronto. She proceeded to tell me how difficult it was for her at times to stay positive in a city where you can’t find your place or your people.
And so, it all made sense. Being a part of a community wherever you are is so important, even when far from home.
I had never truly understood this before because I had always been at stages in my life where I was open to discovering new places and people, and developing new, deep – though brief – friendships. However, I realized this summer that I’ve taken a shift in how I develop and maintain relationships, and I’ve come to realize a lot of who I am and my sense of belonging really flows from those who I love and surround me.
And that’s what it was like in Community too. Though the characters were in a community college overflowing with new, different people to meet and get to know, the dynamic energy between Troy and Abed was unbreakable. When Troy (aka Childish Gambino) left the show, things weren’t the same and Abed wasn’t his full creative, loony self. Furthermore, when Piers got sick, the mood of the group changed because one of their own could not be fully present.
Community is a hilarious show. It’s got wit, oozing creativity and a weighty moral of the story to boot.
If you’ve got a community, cherish it. If you don’t, keep searching to find yours.
À la prochaine. #SixSeasonsAndAMovie
Music of the Moment:
One more sleep.
That’s all I have left. Just one more sleep. One more until my adventure – the very one I have been dreaming of for years, planning incessantly in between my present and past plans – begins, and I honestly cannot believe it.
It’s strange, really; when you dream of something for so long and begin to see it realized, you kind of wonder if it’s really happening at all. Even more so, you get scared of seeing it through for endless reasons: the fear of things all going wrong; the chance that you may fail at what you once thought was your destiny; the fact that, at some point, you may find yourself alone.
All these thoughts have been running through my head, day and night. Lately I’ve been turning up the volume on a lot of things to sort of drown out the silence. One thing I can’t seem to grasp, however, is why I am feeling this way as strongly as I am about this trip when I just finished another one just like it.
But then again, that’s the thing. It isn’t just like the last time. Nothing is ever just like the last time. That’s kind of the beauty of the future – it often teases the present but never mimics the past. I like that element of surprise; it scares the living daylight out of me sometimes, but that’s what makes it all worthwhile.
I literally just watched the film The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (the coincidence of my spontaneously viewing this film during the period of my current life occurrences is still boggling my mind – it’s a great watch, I recommend it to ALL), and one powerful quote ran through the film:
And it is. Others may add onto it or tweak it a bit but we really are here to see, learn from, and understand each other and what we can discover; not necessarily the meaning of life, but how to live. “To see behind walls,” not literally behind them but more so walking up to a wall unknowing of what lies behind it and yet willing to continue. That is how one learns to live, and that is how I plan to take on this trip. I can plan only so much, and be as cautious as my mother and my mother’s mother have taught me to be, but there comes a point when great opportunities are deemed as such only by those who are brave enough to uncover their greatness.
This movie was honestly like a remedy to my unnerved soul, and a reminder that sometimes, you just have to trust the world. I mean, we live in it, right?
À la prochaine,
Music of the Moment: