Beginning to New Beginnings

Aug 3 2009
So I finally made the big move to back to Calgary, the city where I was born. What few memories I have of the city no longer serve me as I landed at Calgary international Airport and feel just as much as a tourist as anyone else there. For the last seventeen years of my life I have resided in Toronto, filled with culture, fashion, food and excitement. After years of living the life of a wanna-be socialite; spending, rather over-spending, then when I was maxed on my credit cards I could still usually find a way to spend more. I wouldn’t say I was out of control or that I had a problem… Not until four months ago anyways, when all of sudden I received a big slap in the face, no actually it was a kick in the butt, from the universe. I was working for a large law firm as a corporate/commercial legal assistant, when all of a sudden this thing called a “recession” actually effected me! Jobless and living in downtown Toronto, I lived ignorantly and unchanged by the situation. I shopped and socialized; even more so now as I had no worries of sleeping through the alarm or being late. My bed and I quickly rekindled a relationship of sleeping in till noon together. Now don’t get me wrong, I certainly still had prerogatives and priorities. For the first three months however, after sending out resume after resume, to no fruition, I still lived by a personal mantra of “Don’t even worry about it.”

Then eventually as all good things do certainly come to an end, my July credit card statements came. The bright red and bolded wording, while familiar to me, made my hands shake as I read. For this time I had no means of undoing the damage. The tiny savings I had slowly had been eaten away by rent, insurance and all the other necessities to barely maintain above the poverty line. Then one day, I can’t recall which exactly; the sky came down, like Atlas finally being overcome by the world on his shoulders. I was sitting on my couch, flipping channels with no direction, only to have the noise drown out my rapid thoughts. I stopped on “Oprah”, for only a second. She turned to her guest, Tonya Harding, (It was a show on past headline makers and where are they now.) She turned to her and said “You can’t be afraid to live your best life.” In that moment, that great “aha!” moment, I knew the changes that needed to be made.

Over the next month I sold my car, my furniture. All my gorgeous designer pillows, custom made end tables, luxury cottons, imported woven rugs and other home effects, accessories and electronics I had attained in the wild ravaging of what I will from here forth refer to as “my past life” gone. After my apartment was hollowed out just the skeletal walls remaining, I needed to attack the guts and heart of my “past life”. My closet, a beautiful four foot deep walk in closest. Three hanging shoe racks, 118 wooden hangers, a dresser full of foldable clothing and my winter wardrobe. I looked over my shoulder to see if the two suitcases I had to try to fit it all into were laughing at me. Each dress, skirt, blouse, pair of shoes I pulled down, desperately trying to fold it as small and tight as possible so that I could take more with me. Each garment like a child. How could I possibly leave any of them behind? My emotions took over, not unlike Uma Thurman in Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2. I was enraged that I was there, doing what I was doing. What I had to do. So “I roared, I rampaged and I got bloody satisfaction.” With no consideration or hesitation my hands began tearing articles off hangers, Clothes out of drawers, throwing them with ferocity across the room into two piles. Keep and leave. When the hangers all hung bare, swinging back an fourth on the rails, somewhat hypnotically, what was now in my suitcases could barely fill a third of the space. Then my heart sank. MY SHOES! All forty three pairs still hung on the back wall and both my suitcases already full. I felt nauseous, completely petrified. When it was over, I could not believe what I had done. I had chosen only three pairs to come with me.
The next week I slowly said goodbye to my friends, many of them somewhat happy to see me leave. Only because of the shopping bags full of my dissected wardrobe that I was passing onto them. The usual lines were exchanged; I will call, visit, email, keep in touch, will miss you etc etc etc. On my last night in that city that cost me so much, there was a farewell gathering for me. At my request it was not held out at a lavish restaurant or high end club. Rather, at my best friend’s condo where no money was needed to be spent. I received many a raised eyebrow when I suggested it but I needed to start embracing my new life and by extension lifestyle.

The next morning I arrived at Lester B Pearson. Me and the entirety of my possessions, all that I had to show for myself stowed in the cargo of an airplane. Heading to a place where I knew no one, had nothing. I kept trying to remember those words from Oprah “don’t be afraid to live your best life”….I was in no mood though. “Give me a break Oprah.” I thought, “She still has her closet filled, hell she probably has an entire house just for closest space, girl never had to give away her designer heels.” The self- loathing and pity grew as I crossed the Canadian skies. Even at thrity thousand feet I still felt crushed by the weight of everything. After four hours I arrived in Calgary. I thought it clever when I glanced at my watch, then up at the clock by baggage claim. “Well not a bad start, I am already two hours ahead of myself.”


XO Rachel Reborn