It was early. Perhaps not “early” for most, but early for me. The air was crisp, cold, and the town was quiet. Undeniably quiet. Eerily quiet. Peacefully quiet. I can look outside my window and see Quadra Island, a place I’ve spend several summers at years ago. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I can catch sight of the cute little BC Ferry that services the two islands.
For the last couple days I’ve been in Campbell River, a small town off the coast of Vancouver Island. Coming from a city of one million plus, a city of 30,000 is small. Undeniably small. Eerily small. Peacefully small. It’s like an acquired taste, almost. There is something relaxing about it; and yet, I miss home. I miss the noise, the crowds, the traffic, the good, and the bad. Most of all, I miss my bed. And my silky sheets. And speaking French to my dog.
As I walked the streets from my hotel to my work location, I couldn’t help but wonder: What would I have been like if I’d grown up in a small city like Campbell River? Would I have “turned out” differently? Would I have had the same ambitions? What kind of friends would I have had? How would I have been like? What kinds of things would I have enjoyed doing?
It’s such an odd thought, trying to imagine yourself as someone completely different. Every little bit of everything we’ve done, experienced, learned, been taught, been exposed to… all of that makes us who we are today. Change anything, and you wouldn’t be the exactly the same person.
Have you ever thought about this? Say you grew up somewhere completely opposite to where you did: how do you think you’d be different? (Or would you?)