Today, we embark on the long journey to see family. I can't help but think about how just a few generations ago, this level of travel as a family would be almost unthinkable, yet it's a way of life for us. We make this trip to Nova Scotia at least a couple of times a year, and it makes me appreciate the advances in technology we've had in the last couple of centuries. Of course, plenty of horrors have also resulted from our technological leaps, but today I'm going to declare advancement a win because I get to live halfway across a giant country and still see my family regularly and talk to them almost daily.
For me, going to Nova Scotia is like going home. It's not the comfort of the place or the call of the ocean like it is for some. What makes Nova Scotia home for me is the people. Again, thanks to the magic of technology, I am still in touch with basically everyone I have ever encountered in my life that I wish to still be in contact with. That's pretty amazing. On my last birthday, spent in Nova Scotia, I got a reiki treatment from my best friend from grade 2! We play boardgames with virtually every Jr. High and High School boyfriend I ever had. I am surrounded by a beautiful shining network of wonderful people that I have been building for my entire life. It really is a beautiful thing, and I truly have the internet to thank for it. In this case, even a few decades ago, this level of sustained contact would be nearly impossible. But here we are, in a beautiful technological age.
As an aside, have actually been thinking a lot lately about this information age we live in. We have the entirety of the world's knowledge at our fingertips, in our pockets at almost all times. We could all be filled to the brim with information, all of us with a free and incredibly robust education. The possibilities are endless. Yet, somehow we have fallen short. We've done some incredible things, but it seems like too little. My hope is that with the growing capabilities of AI, we'll find ourselves in that position within a generation, hopefully before. But, enough of that tangent - perhaps a topic we'll explore in more depth another time. For today, it's Nova Scotia and nostalgia.
I know I have written about this in the past, but I feel it's worth mentioning again - my childhood friends, those people who have been around for the majority of my life, have pulled me out of some of my darkest moments. Honestly, watching people I grew up loving interacting with my children is one of the most heartwarming things I have the privilege of experiencing and I get to see it happen over and over again.
The first time I encountered this phenomenon in a profound way was a couple of years ago. I had a particularly challenging year, culminating in me losing one of my best friends for reasons outside my control just before a trip to Nova Scotia. With everything else that had happened that year, I sunk into a deep, dark hole of heartbreak. You would never know it from photos - I carried on like normal, making magical moments for my family - but felt completely dead inside.
While visiting family, we decided to take a trip to the beach and I invited my Jr. High boyfriend, who still remains a wonderful friend and an important part of my life. He brought along one of our best friends from that time in life and, with that, I got to watch the magic unfold and feel the darkness lift out of me. I'll be honest, I didn't do much that day. I went in the water and I certainly engaged with the kids when I could, but those two wonderful people from so far in my past really took up the slack and made that a fantastic day of boogie boards, jumping in waves, and playing catch. I was almost brought to tears (and am again now as I think about it) to see two people I loved for literal decades play with my children and lift my spirits from the depths of despair at the same time.
And that is what Nova Scotia is to me - a monumental reminder of the love that has always surrounded me; an ode to the love I felt for people decades in my past that still remains today; a reminder that even in the darkness (and sometimes tucked away in places I've forgotten) there is always someone standing by to help me shine a light.