Gone, till I change (2011)

CHAPTER 1: By myself Day 0

"Once you get into the desert, there's no going back," said the camel rider. "And, when you can't go back, you have to worry only about the best way of moving forward." 

PAULO COELHO, The Alchimist

March 8th 2011. Women's day. The perfect date to be sitting alone, facing boarding gate number 61. Here I am, several months later, with twenty five hundred dollars, a two year working visa, three overseas contacts and a huge suitcase. I managed to pack some clothes shoes, my Lonely Planet guide, a Swiss Army knife bought by my mother despite my protests. I had a helmet and a fluorescent jacket provided by my father in case I'd ever come to ride a bicycle, which I reluctantly accepted. I brought plenty of 70% Lindt chocolate pallets, of which mom and I always have stocked for those winter evenings when we need consoling. But the most important articles: a thirty-two Dollarama mini candles package and my self-help books.

Wrapped in my Miss Sixty jeans, was Paulo Coelho's Manual of the Warrior of Light, my bible of courage, the one I'll read by candlelight in a bath when I'll need to revive the flame of my determination and remember why I left. The second essential source of courage, Esther and Jerry Hicks' CD of The Law of Attraction, a wisdom transmitted to them by a cosmic entity they named Abraham. The last thing I brought was my other bible, Stephen Covey's Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, thanks to which I've been able to seal off the duties I've hated to finally free myself. From now on, I must make use of my legendary efficiency more wisely.

Over the past year, I listened to The Law of Attraction tirelessly, as I was walking the dog in the silent streets of the suburbs, burning calories on the treadmill at the gym La Cité, on the metro to Collège of Maisonneuve or under the duvet, in a state of drowsiness. I had deliberately assigned myself this brainwashing to reach a true faith in the universal law of conscious creation. I needed this blind faith in order to achieve what I had in mind. There was no other way.

And so, after a year of positive thinking, I already feel a little transformed. I am ready to surpass my limits.

Today is a day between two eras. An era is a division of my life and getting into a new era means to turn the page on who I was before. The in-between? It is this moment of infinite possibilities, this edge of precipice where I find myself like a hanged man swaying in the void, nothing to cling to beside the strings of fate.

In-between eras would commonly happen in June, when the snow had finally melted and a powerful sun awakened the forces required for change. Since puberty, every spring, I'd be sitting in the garden, creating new lists: books to read, activities to try, friends to see again or not, my ideal body weight to reach, how long to grow my hair, how long to nude-sunbathe each day. Each item of the list seemed crucial to my happiness and had a completion date. But three summer months would go by too quickly and my goals turned out to be unachievable or futile. I ended up forgetting them. Autumn arrived and my lists would end up at the bottom of a drawer with my hopes for future bliss.

This time, I'll have no choice. I will be back in six months, or when I love who I am.

Through the huge bay window, I can see the plane's white wings standing out from a sky that is getting darker every minute, as I slowly detach myself away from the world and the people I am leaving. My college peers, with the sudden spark of admiration in their eyes. My mother and father, moved by my departure, united for a rare time since their separation. My brother and sister, with whom I shared everything so far. For them especially, I have to prove the law of attraction and prove wrong the beliefs that threaten us like a treacherous friend.

Boarding begins in a few minutes. I am ready to go, looking forward to writing, in a few weeks, a few months maybe, "Everything is fine. I am happy". May these words one day be mine, no longer only those of others.

Goodbye, Montréal!