As the Olympic flame goes dark in Vancouver tonight, and after a thrilling gold-medal win by Canada’s men’s hockey team, commentators are trying their very best to summarize these games. So far a popular thought has been that these Olympics gave citizens of this country a chance to shout from the rooftops – and medal podiums – that we are proud to be Canadians. Yes, us modest, calm Canadians can finally show pride unabashedly.
Don’t get me wrong. I was literally on the edge of my seat during overtime today, and I stood and clapped at more than one medal ceremony. However, my need to grab a red and white flag has been decreasing quietly but steadily for quite a while now, and with it my need to fist-pump my chest at my being Canadian.
I am fortunate to live in this country. I have never known extreme poverty. The horrors of war have never come close to my doorstep. I live on no fault lines which threaten to bring the bricks and mortar of my old apartment building down on me. Accessible health care is a mere five-minute walk away from where I live.
So why, in the face of all of this, is my national pride waning? It is because of this: National borders, as it is with so many other kinds of boundaries, begin to weaken when faced with the strength of love.
There are no boundaries which love cannot overcome. Between Canadians and Americans, between Liberals and Conservatives, between Christians and Muslims. Love meets and dances its way through and between men and women, rich and poor, gay and straight, the able-bodied and those with mobility challenges. Nothing that faces love can meet it and not be changed.
Love brings us together. So more than being proud of being Canadian, more than feeling fortunate about anything else, I am just happy to be here. I am happy to be here in this moment, in a place where I have been met by Love. When everything is filtered down, it is all that remains.
And Love is more than enough.
