Big city burnout: Soul-recovery in a small town

Mansur's Musings

In January of this year, I moved to Lindsay after living in London, UK for three years. Or more accurately, I crash landed in Lindsay after a tumultuous and disheartening year, trying desperately to make that big city dream work. From bad flatmates to a never-ending internship, a breakup that left me trekking to a friend’s place an hour out of the city at midnight, and the eventual loss of my job in February, it was one heck of a return to my home country. Last year I felt stuck at every turn as the city swirled around me. I had drifted along the current of somebody else’s life.

Fast forward to today and I’m writing this, my second piece for Fireside Publishing House. I’m in more alignment with myself than ever before, feeling connected, grounded, tuned-in, and limitless.

But Lindsay is not my hometown. Born and raised in Toronto, Lindsay was just a place my family moved to while I was overseas. I’d visited, but that feeling of home was missing. I always preferred falling asleep to the sound of bustle outside my window and having the world at my fingertips. Or so I thought.

Landing at Pearson, it took four hours to drive through the snowstorm that welcomed me back. Oh Canada.

I cried most nights. I had no friends in Lindsay and for months it felt like the world had left me behind. The city had chewed me up and spat me out. But I’m a city girl! How could this happen? Even with some key successes early on in my stint abroad, nothing made me feel like my time there wasn’t a complete failure. I was burned out. My health had rapidly declined and the only thing lower was my self-esteem.

Then in February I joined a Pilates class at Sweat Happy. I loved it and started going regularly – the affordable, small class sizes and warm, welcoming instructors helped get my physical health back on track.

Spring came, so I started walking to Kindred and spent a few hours every week reading things I enjoyed purely because I enjoyed them. The baristas quickly learned my regular coffee order, and this became another spot where I could see familiar faces.

Summer hit, and family-friends became friends. In the city, public transit and dense traffic constantly got in the way; now, I live down the street from everyone and feel connected to the community like never before.

After six months, I felt it deep in my core, down to the soles of my feet – I had finally come home. This little town helped me find myself. And it was all through simple things, interactions that didn’t feel rushed or transactional.

Fear and isolation dissolved, literal wide-open spaces allowed me to find my own current, my own path. I’ve learned that big-city bustle can help you explore who you are but it’s the small-town stillness that lets you find who you are.