My Moving Mix

I love my iPod. My iPod is one of my most reliable companions. My iPod can inspire more emotions and reflection than a sappy soap opera and historical documentary combined. One of my favorite things about my iPod is that I can create playlists for any mood. I have a playlist for when I’m mad, one for playing before soccer games, one for when I need cheering up, one for morning motivation, one for laughs, one for running, and even one for my dogs. Some playlists are created for temporary needs, such as road trip playlists, or playlists created for entertaining visitors.

One of my playlists was created for a temporary purpose—to help me get through my move to Canada two years ago. However, that playlist remains on my iPod and may be there forever. When I listen to those songs now, the emotions I was feeling two years ago come rushing back. And, listening to those songs helps me remember the difficulties I overcame when I went through such an emotionally trying transition. I’ve been thinking about my expatriation to Canada more lately, as it has been just two years since I moved, and I thought I should give the songs the credit they deserve for helping me preserve my sanity at that time. These are the songs that kept me going when I was still in limbo, not knowing if Sarah and I would be able to stay together. These are the songs that were my crutch as I packed up my stuff and donated all but my most important possessions. These are the songs that gave me strength as I made the ten hour trip from Grand Rapids, MI to Cambridge, ON. These are the songs that helped me keep my chin up when I was new in Canada and felt very alone.

The lyrics of some of the songs on that playlist are so eerily apt to my situation and my move that I still get chills or teary-eyed at some of them. In fact, I wrote a little synopsis of what was going on in my life two years ago using only excerpts from those songs:

This doesn’t feel like freedom. This ain’t my American dream. Nothing’s belonged, nothing’s been “yes,” nowhere’s been home, and I’m ready to be limbo no more. I’d give anything to get what's fair. Somewhere there's a place for us. It's time to make a move. I've got my heart set on anywhere but here I'm staring down myself, counting up the years. We gotta move. This ain't no living. I wouldn't stay around if the money let me linger on. When the white oak (national tree of the USA) has no answer, it turns its back on you. The maple calls you, shows you something new. In Canada, they treat you like a queen. In Canada, they never will be mean. I hear spring is nice in Canada. I start to wonder why I’m here, not there.

I sit with filled frames and my books and my dogs at my feet. My friends by my side, my past in a heap. Thrown out most of my things. You can have my stereo. Only kept what I need to carve something consistent. We said goodbye to a dear old friend, and we packed our bags and left feeling sad. I've got a heart full of rubber bands that keep getting caught on things. And I know it aches and my heart it breaks--I can only take so much. I’ve got to leave it behind. We’ll leave behind the worst we've known and build ourselves a brand new home--maybe then we'll find the time we've lost I’m ready to wake up, there in the exodus, on the beautiful side of somewhere. So I packed my car and headed east. There’s something exciting about leaving everything behind. Turn your head and don't look back. Just set your sails for a new horizon--don't turn around, don't look down. And you know it's really not surprising--it gets better when you get there. I remember my home--I left there with bitter words. I won't forget the place I come from. We said hello as we turned the key. A new roof over our heads--somewhere I belong. My roots in the ground, something at last I can feel a part of. It's a shame that we have lost so many things that we will never find again. But it doesn't matter anymore, anyways.

Below is a list of the songs on that playlist and a snippet of the lyrics for each. The songs with an asterisk are the ones that have been the most meaningful to me, and I have posted their entire lyrics. I hope that anyone who might be moving to somewhere new and unknown can find solace and encouragement in their words and music as I have (and still do).

No More—Matt Pond PA
“When the white oak has no answer, it turns its back on you. The maple calls you, shows you something new.”

Even Rats—The Slip
“I hear spring is nice in Canada. . .you can have my stereo.”

American Idiot—Greenday
“Well maybe I’m the faggot America. I’m not part of a redneck agenda.”

In a Big Country—Big Country
“I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered, but you can't stay here with every single hope you had shattered”

Somewhere—from West Side Story
“We'll find a new way of living, we'll find a way of forgiving. Somewhere . . . There's a place for us.”

American Dream—Switchfoot
“It doesn’t feel like freedom. This ain’t my American dream.”

Godspeed You Deathwolf—Sleepless Nights
“I don’t want to move to Toronto.”

Breakaway—Kelly Clarkson
“Though it's not easy to tell you goodbye, gotta take a risk, take a chance, make a change and break away. Out of the darkness and into the sun, but I won't forget the place I come from.”

*Limbo No More—Alanis Morissette
“My house, my role
My friends, my man
My devotion to god
All the more feels indefinite

Nothing’s been clear
Nothing’s been in
Nothing’s felt true
And I’ve never had both feet in
Nothing’s belonged
Nothing’s been yes
Nowhere’s been home
And I’m ready to be limbo no more

My taste, my peers
My identity, my affiliation
All the more feels indefinite

Nothing’s been clear
Nothing’s been in
Nothing’s felt true
And I’ve never had both feet in
Nothing’s belonged
Nothing’s been yes
Nowhere’s been home
And I’m ready to be limbo no more

I sit with filled frames
And my books and my dogs at my feet
My friends by my side
My past in a heap
Thrown out most of my things
Only kept what I need to carve
Something consistent and notably me

Tattoo on my skin
My teacher’s in heart
My house is a home
Something at last I can feel a part of
Sense of myself
My purpose is clear
My roots in the ground
Something at last I can feel a part of
Something aligned
To finally commit
Somewhere I belong
‘Cuz I’m ready to be limbo no more
My wisdom applied
A firm foundation
A vow to myself
‘Cuz I’m ready to be limbo no more”

*We Said Hello, Goodbye (Don’t Look Back)—Phil Collins
“We said goodbye to a dear old friend
And we packed our bags and left feeling sad
It's the only way
We said hello as we turned the key
A new roof over our heads
Gave a smile
It's the only way
Only way

Turn your head
And don't look back
Set your sails for a new horizon
Don't turn around don't look down
Oh there's life across the tracks
And you know it's really not surprising
It gets better when you get there

Well it really don't matter much where you are
Cause home is in your heart
It's a feeling that you wake with one day
Some people keep running all their life
And still find they haven't gone too far
They don't see it's the feeling inside - the feeling inside

Turn your head and don't look back
Just set your sails for a new horizon
Don't turn around don't look down
Oh there's life across the tracks
And you know it's really not surprising
It gets better when you get there

We said hello as we turned the key
A new roof over our heads
Gave a smile - it's the only way”

*What We Have Been Waiting For—Daphne Loves Derby
“I have been waiting for July to come around
I hear the summer whispering the things to come

We have been waiting for the sun to show its face
Thank you, sweet winter
But now we're desperate to move on

We leave behind the worst we've known
And build ourselves a brand new home
Maybe then we'll find the time we've lost

Set us free, sweet summer day
We've been waiting much too long for you to come
Save me from the worst I've known
And let me relive the days I've thrown away

Times have changed so quickly
It's a shame that we have lost so many things that we will never find again
But it doesn't matter anymore, anyways
Summer sings a song to us that I can't ignore
That I'm desperate for
I tried too hard to keep my calm but I just cannot anymore, anyways

We leave behind the worst we've known
And build ourselves a brand new home
Maybe then we'll find the time we've lost

Set us free, sweet summer day
We've been waiting much too long for you to come
Save me from the worst I've known
And let me relive the days I've thrown away

Remember all the times we've wasted
Drowning ourselves in foolish dreams
We were betrayed by our own hope
But the summer will be a sweet revenge

The end”

*Stop and Stare—OneRepublic
“This town is colder now, I think it's sick of us
It's time to make a move, I'm shaking off the rust
I've got my heart set on anywhere but here
I'm staring down myself, counting up the years

Steady hands, just take the wheel
And every glance is killing me
Time to make one last appeal
For the life I leave

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be.
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're here, not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need
Oh, can you see what I see

They're trying to come back, all my senses push
Untie the weight bags, I never thought I could
Steady feet, don't fail me now
Gotta run till you can't walk
But something pulls my focus out
And I'm standing down

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be.
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're here, not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared
I've become what I can't be
Oh, do you see what I see”

*Another White Dash—Butterfly Boucher
“There is something exciting about leaving everything behind
There is something deep and pulling leaving everything behind
Something about having everything you think you'll ever need
Sitting in the seat next to you

And I watch another white dash, another white dash, another white dash fly beside us
And I watch another white dash, another white dash, another white dash fly beneath us

Away away..

There is yelling of an engine, a constant rattling door
There is serious, deep and mumbled a conversation I'm not in
Flickering lights, shadows of trees makes me blink my eyes
Makes the land appear like a really old movie

And I watch another white dash, another white dash, another white dash fly beside us
And I watch another white dash, another white dash, another white dash fly beneath us

Away away..

I've got a heart full of rubber bands that keep getting caught on things

And I count another white dash, another white dash, another white dash, I drift off at eighty.. something!
And I count another white dash, another white dash, another white dash out of time with the music
Another white dash, another white dash, another white dash, fly beside us
And I count another white dash, another white dash, another white dash fly beneath us

There is something exciting about leaving everything behind
There is something deep and pulling leaving everything behind
Something about having everything you think you'll ever need
Sitting in the seat next to you”

Waiting in Canada—Jann Arden
“Drive your car all night by just starlight to Canada”

Nothing Left to Lose—Mat Kearney
“There’s nothing left to lose. So I packed my car and headed east. . .push the pedal down, and watch the world around fly by us.

Catch the Sun—Doves
“I ain’t ever going back, back to the place that I can’t stand.”

The Beautiful Side—The Wallflowers
“I’m ready to wake up, there in the exodus, on the beautiful side of somewhere. I’m ready to come down and see us both somehow, on the beautiful side of somewhere.”

Gotta Get Thru This—Daniel Beddingfield
“I gotta get through this. . .just another day and then I’ll hold you tight.”

Miles From Our Home—Cowboy Junkies
“You're miles from your home, miles from your home. But that's where I want to be.”

Start the Car—Jude Cole
“Start the car, we gotta move. This ain't no living, this ain't no groove. . .
But somewhere waiting there's something more. Start the car.”

Don’t Look Back—Thallia
“Trust your heart, you'll make it somehow. It's everything you're looking for. . .Don't look back, keep straight ahead. You know what is right--out of mind is out of sight.”

Check Yes Juliet—We the Kings
“Run, baby, run. Don't ever look back. They'll tear us apart if you give them the chance.”

Brand New Day—Sting
“The river's wide, we'll swim across. We're starting up a brand new day.”

Walk On—U2
“And I know it aches and your heart it breaks--you can only take so much. Walk on. Leave it behind. You've got to leave it behind.”

Somerville—The Pernice Brothers
“I wouldn't stay around if the money let me linger on until the end of December and waste another year like a minute, trying to forget, but I remember my home--I left there with bitter words.”

In Canada—B. J. Snowden
“In Canada, they treat you like a queen. In Canada, they never will be mean.”

Canadian Idiot—Weird Al Yankovic
“And you know what else is too funny? Their stupid Monopoly money.”

Guard it Closely—The Jealous Sound
“There's an empty chair here--we guard it closely. You're so far gone.”

No Way Back—Foo Fighters
“There is no way back from here, but I don't care--no way back from here.”

My Third Canadian Autumn Begins

I’ve always found it remarkable how many people say that autumn is their favorite season. You would think that people would prefer the lazy doldrums of summer. Yet, ask any North American to name their favorite season, and you will invariably get a response indicating either fall or both summer and fall.

I think the explanation for this is that fall is a time of year when people often start something new—ironically, a season of death represents new beginnings for so many. Either it’s off to school, sending kids to school, the start of a new sports season, or even getting new clothes that provide a bit more protection from the elements than the summer tank tops and shorts. One of my friends and I were recently discussing how powerful seasons and holidays are in prompting memories and emotions—it’s the temperatures in the air, the thickness of the atmosphere, the decorations, the colors of the fields, the richness (or lack of) in the hues in the sky, and most of all the smells that cause us to get lost in reverie, depression, or excitement. Fall, in particular, is a bit drastic in these changes. While autumn slips in some flurries here and there just to get everyone mentally ready for the upcoming cold, winter moves to spring in a blustery and muddy but gradual way, and spring eases into summer with two-degrees forward/one-degree backwards type intervals, the fall of fall always seems to be more sudden. There is always a day each year when I walk out my back door and say, usually to no one in particular, “Well, fall is here.” I can’t recall ever having that same epiphany for other seasons.

While autumn has always been my favorite season, the changing from summer to fall has increased significance for me now as I remember that one of the biggest changes in my life happened in the late summer/early fall of 2008. That was when I moved away from the US. The 30^th of August recently came and went, and the magnitude of the date did not escape me—it was my two year anniversary of moving to Canada.

I had some chance to contemplate how much my life had changed in two years, and in what ways the changes were so much different than I could have imagined. The following weekend was cold, rainy, and blustery, and I remember mentioning to no one in particular, “Well, fall is here.” Our friends Tony and Rick came from Michigan to visit us for the holiday weekend. This was their third annual Labor Day weekend visit. Their first visit to Canada on Labor Day weekend was when I moved to Canada. They arrived in Cambridge on the Friday night and stayed with Sarah so that they were there and able to help us unload the U-Haul when I arrived from Michigan the next day. In the mean time I was sleeping in a nearly empty house in Michigan with a U-Haul parked in the driveway. I got up the next morning and finished loading the final few items. My friend and neighbor Beth came over to say a tearful goodbye and to give me a bunch of Canadian coins that my soccer teammates had collected as a going away present.

As I needed to bring not only the U-Haul to Canada, but also my car, my friends Clare and Jason came over to make the trip with me. We had a nice little three-vehicle convoy—I was driving the giant U-Haul truck. Clare drove my car, and Jason drove his car so that he and Clare would have a way to get back to Michigan.

I’ll never forget those few split seconds when I pulled out of the driveway for what I knew would be the last time. I was full of fear and sadness. Sarah had made the same journey just six weeks earlier, and she said that the further she got from Grand Rapids, the more the fear and sadness started to transition into excitement and anticipation. Like her, I was driving all alone with only my iPod and my “moving to Canada” playlist to keep me company. More on that in a future post.

The U-Haul could only go so fast, and we had to stop for gas and food now and then. When we reached Detroit, we had to stop to export my car. Most encounters with United States federal government employees are a real treat, and this was no different. It took about an hour to complete something that should have taken ten minutes. Finally the car was exported, and we headed over the Ambassador Bridge. We didn’t get too far as the line to get into Canada extended almost the length of the bridge. I will never forget thinking about how during that whole time on the bridge, my car was a car without a country—exported from the US but not yet imported into Canada. I was kind of the same.

The import proceedings at the Canadian border took an additional hour, but were a much more pleasant experience, as the customs officers were very chatty and helpful. Then we were on our way again, driving the horrendous two hours of highway 401 nothingness between Windsor and London. Once we hit London, I knew we were only an hour away from my new home, and as Sarah predicted, my fear and sadness has changed to excitement—here I was in a new country, MY new country.

A journey that would typically take under six hours ended up taking ten hours. Our little convoy arrived at the house in Cambridge where we were joyfully greeted by Sarah, Tony, Rick, and our dogs Cody and Brit. The reunion with Sarah and the dogs was emotional enough, and the realization that four of my friends made the incredible journey with us just to help us out and help ease our anxiety was overwhelming. It was already getting dark when we arrived, so we opted to wait until the morning to unload the truck. Besides, Sarah, Tony, and Rick had made a trip to the Beer Store and stocked the fridge with over 72 bottles of new and exciting Canadian beers.

I woke up the next morning and opened my eyes and thought, “Wow, I’m in Canada. I’m in a different country!” (This internal morning ritual was repeated every morning for almost the next five months.) The rest of the weekend was filled with shopping, drinking, and unpacking. On Labor Day, all of our friends headed back to Michigan, and so we were left all alone in a new country where we didn’t know anyone. I had negotiated to start my job the following week, so I had one week all to myself to explore my surroundings. Sarah was working, so during the day, I rode my bike and walked around town, took drives through the countryside, and sat on the deck taking it all in. Autumn came early in 2008, and by the first week of September, the feeling was already in the air. The day before I started my new job, I was hanging out on the deck with the dogs. The sky was cool gray, the wind encouraged a few red-tinged maple leaves to surrender to gravity, and I buttoned my overcoat with a shiver. I mumbled to no one in particular, “Well, fall is here.”