Entering My Third Year as Immigrant in Canada

By Edar 'Cinnikull' Aihil

The questions often pile high on your mind as you prepare to retire for the day, then lie in your bed staring into nothingness.

You reflect upon what you have accomplished – which is little, and what made you begin this journey in the first place. You reminisce the time when you could conquer the world, when you had the world in the palm of your hand. When you were the stuff stars are made of.

You try to get philosophical by exploring the depths of these questions and by trying to find new answers to them. You only find new words, no new ideas.

You justify your journey by recalling profound notions from books and scripture and writings of sages.

You blame yourself so much for not attempting what you could have done so easily in the first two years. You blame your initial circumstances, you blame it on everything you possibly can. And yet, you know deep in your heart that next year, you’ll be blaming yourself again for failing to perform what you can now. If only today you knew what that is.

You envy others’ success as it weighs heavy on your esteem. You take comfort in your past and sit on your laurels until you shake yourself back to reality of the present and unknowns of the future. But you can’t help drifting again into that old world, for it is the only world you wish you could live in forever.

But then, as if your mind decides to turn benevolent on your struggle, you arrive at a point when a moment of clarity makes you take solace in the fact that it was you, and you alone, who made the decision to be here, after your loss. You count your blessings for being so far away from what ate your soul every minute. And you vow not to be ungrateful again.

Suddenly, like a warm blanket, your mind is at peace again. You nod your head in acknowledgement – even smile – as you have won yet another fight with yourself.