One Year in Vancouver
In my all-time favourite book, The Catcher in the Rye, there is a famous quote by the main character, Holden Caulfield.
It goes like this:
“Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids and nobody's around—nobody big, I mean—except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff—I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going, I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all.”
Holden says this because he realizes that he’s on the verge of adulthood, something new and different from all he has known. Although all the signs point towards moving on, he is anxious about taking that step. I’ve read so many interpretations of this quote, but this is the only one that stuck with me.
Until a year ago, I was just like Holden Caulfied. I was a catcher in the rye. At least, mentally.
Moving to Vancouver is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. It feels like I did it on a wimp, but in reality, it was a conversation I had been having with myself, and a couple of friends, for at least a year. In December 2018, two months after my dad died, I got some clarity after one of my therapy sessions and mapped it all out.
I had planned to finish up my book project at the time, propose to my girlfriend, get married and move. This was supposed to happen over the space of 2-3 years. I thought that would give me enough time to save and invest considerably before moving to the second most expensive city to live in the world.
I thought I was being cautious, but in reality, like Holden, I was anxious. I was overthinking everything and should’ve let God lead. So, when things sped up unexpectedly, and I found myself booking a one-way ticket for my fiancee and me to fly out within a couple of weeks, I had no idea how it would work out. But it did.
I almost do not recognize myself from a year ago. Instead, I feel more like myself from ten years ago when I lived in my native county, Nigeria, and with my family. Like ten years ago: today, I have a better sense of purpose, my relationships are well defined and nurtured, and I’m letting God lead.
But this letter isn’t about Holden Caulfied, Vancouver or God.
It’s about anxiety masked as caution.
It’s about the fear of the unknown.
It’s about the lies we tell ourselves.
Holden lied to himself. I lied to myself. Maybe, you’re lying to yourself.
You know better than anyone else if you are lying to yourself. So, check yourself. Look beyond the lies and look out for the signs. If it turns out that you’re holding yourself back, then please start moving.
Don’t be a catcher in the rye.
This letter was originally shared as a newsletter. You can sign up to receive letters like this one on a biweekly basis here.