The other day, I crossed over.

There is something more than physical about the Rocky Mountains. They looms large as a divide in identity too. I grew up, and have lived, most of my life to their left, near the sea, in British Columbia. As a child I naturally felt that “Central” Canada starts with Alberta on the other side of the Rockies. BC touching the water was the west. Then everything else was “central” until you hit the East Coast/Maritime provinces.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that people “back east” consider western Canada to start in Manitoba on the far side of the Prairies! How illogical!

Except for the fact that for the huge population of Ontario considers itself as the centre of Canada, a smaller locus, from which West and East branch out.

As I grow, and as I travel, I gain perspective. I learn to see how the assumptions and lessons learned as child shape what I see, and how I think.

In seeing these assumptions, and exploring these beliefs, I can learn to accept my own ignorance and that which dwells in others. I can see further into the origins of conflicting perspective, and seeketh the toad of truth.

So having crossed the Rockies, and entered what I consider “Central Canada” and some consider “Western Canada”, I realize that both of these are true in part, but the greater truth is greater still.