I hear a lot of disparaging remarks about big-city living, most often from people who don’t do it. They’ve visited the city, they’ve fought to find parking, they’ve been overwhelmed by the crowds. I get it. Sometimes, though, I wonder if they are spending too much time comparing, rather than just appreciating where they are, for what it is.
If you’ve been following my blog for awhile, you know that this time last year, I was living on a huge plot of land in the country, high on a hill, overlooking a bay. It sounds blissful, and it was. In some ways. I had a view of the ocean and rolling, forested hills, every single day. It was quiet – so quiet that if someone’s dog barked (or they started up a chainsaw) early in the morning on Labour Day (like today), you could hear it for miles around. I had a huge vegetable plot, enough to provide most of my winter’s produce. (Sometime we’ll talk about storing fifty pounds of potatoes). But not long afterward, I had an opportunity to make a change. I moved back to a city I love, to be near people who are very important to me, and to engage in some pursuits that weren’t available to me where I was. The question I get all the time, from my friends from the old house is, “don’t you miss it?!?”
Frankly, the answer is no. Do you know what I miss? I miss daily contact with a few good friends. 
(I do love the internet). I miss sights and sounds, from time to time. However, having moved many (many) times, across this great country of ours, I know this. Friends can be forever, if you let them. Some will hang on, and you get to have them no matter where you roam. The rest, well, it’s just stuff. Wherever we live, I like to live in a similar way. I eat real, fresh, local food, with some faraway delicacies from time to time. Every day, I like to go for a walk, a long one, preferably punctuated by some new sights, sounds, and discoveries. I like nature. I like to interact with other people who are authentic, supportive of others, regardless of their differences, and are optimistic, enthusiastic, and joyful. If you can find that where you are, you’re in the right place. I’m in that place. I hope you are, too.