Loving where you live

Loving where you live illustration by SMOLIK for LUSO

WORDS & PHOTO: ALIX CRITCHLEY
ILLUSTRATIONS: SMOLIK

Whenever someone tells me they hate Toronto, I feel bad for them. It’s absurd to hate an entire city, especially one so vast, and vibrant, and mottled. I understand the specific frustrations, the limitations, and the hyperbole, of course, but hate feels so heavy. Toronto is only trying its best, merely a reflection of all those who choose to be in it. It has quiet spaces among the friction. it has grit and tenderness, and is filled with dreamers. If you can’t find some corner of this city to love, I’m not sure you’ll find it anywhere.

I must admit, I have spent my fair share of time griping about where I live. It’s so easy to resent the familiar, to inculpate your immediate surroundings for any hardships. I feel it, the FOMO transcends, just ask the Three Billy Goats Gruff. Loving where you live is a fine art, it is an active choice, as is any kind of love. Forming a connection with a place is humanly instinctual, but spiritually, it takes effort. There often comes a point of feeling stuck, but perhaps it is only a matter of changing the dialogue: Not stuck, but rather… rooted.

I am certainly no expert on feeling comfortable, or grounded, or optimistic, but I think I have figured out how to live in and love this city. I have to. It has been my home for almost a decade. I dug in and planted some very deep roots. Ten years might not seem like much to some, but it makes up a third of my life, it’s significant. Spending a healthy chunk of my monthly earnings to live here is also not something I take lightly. I think in order to keep my head out of the oven when I consider the toll, I do whatever it takes to keep the love alive. I have to really marinate, look around and romanticize it.

Consider this an ongoing conversation with myself…

When everything seems bad, go to a diner. Sit at the counter. Note the music, and the smell of coffee. Order whatever the person next to you is having, especially if it’s a sandwich on rye with the daily soup, or a heaping pile of fries and gravy.

Find the comedy, whatever that means to you. But really, go see some stand-up at a good club; there’s a lot of it going on. It feels good to hear a whole room laugh together, or wince together, either way. You’re in the belly of it all when you’re face to face with a local joke maker; revel in it.

Go to your co-worker’s, boyfriend’s jazz night on a Tuesday. Show up to that other interesting thing someone told you about. If you never leave the house or participate in anything, it doesn’t really matter where you live, does it?

Find the corner store with the coldest fridges.

Don’t save the explorative nature for a vacation. Go see that exhibit, go to the Sunday market, visit the big, dumb tower. When things get stale, walk around like a blissfully ignorant, fresh-eyed tourist. Get a little lost. 

Don’t confuse your distaste for the city with your distaste for a singular person.

Get a fresh herb plant at the nearest bodega and tend to it. Use it to cook a nice dinner for some friends, laugh when it dies a few weeks later.

Go into that shitty looking bar you pass by every day. Order something on the menu, sit quietly for a while. Look up and around, see who’s been keeping the place alive. 

When you start to hate your neighbour, remember they probably hate you too. Find comfort in that.

Become a regular somewhere. A bar, a coffee shop, an antique store, a library, whatever… Let it become a part of you, let people know your name. There’s a reason ‘Cheers’ reruns persist. Find that place and feed it.

Remember it takes just as much guts to stay, and to try, as it does to pack up and move.  

Become a regular somewhere. A bar, a coffee shop, an antique store, a library, whatever… Let it become a part of you, let people know your name. There’s a reason ‘Cheers’ reruns persist. Find that place and feed it.

Remember it takes just as much guts to stay, and to try, as it does to pack up and move.  

Make a new friend. Don’t force it, of course, but try. The more kindred people around, the easier it is to feel at home. The old adage: “home is where the heart is” rings very true, I find. Having a new person to love is an especially wonderful thing. Let them show you their favourite haunts, show them yours; it’ll remind you why you loved those places, and what keeps you coming back.

Avoid “yesterbating”, it’s a slippery slope into madness. Maybe the neighbourhood used to have more, but dwelling in the unchangeable past is a terrible place to dwell.

Get a good pair of boots. I don’t know, it helps.

Where do they pour the best Guinness? 

On a particularly shitty day, seek a regenerative experience. Lay in grass, watch a sunset, let water touch your toes. Remember that those things are all over, let that ease the unrest. 

Try to remember what brought you here, or what keeps you here. Go back to it often. 

Sit alone and write your own list. Write it when you’re happy. Read it when you’re sad.

 

Zeen is a next generation WordPress theme. It’s powerful, beautifully designed and comes with everything you need to engage your visitors and increase conversions.

Newsletter