February 6, 1973, marked the beginning of a great year. It was the year the Canadian National (CN) Railway company decided to embark on a very ambitious project. Little did they know that they were constructing a monumental project for a girl who’d be born towards the end of the 20^th century.

The project was detailed and carefully curated from when it started in 1973 to its completion in 1975. The company employed more than 1500 workers for 40 months. It cost a fortune! About $325 million, in today’s currency, was spent to build this iconic “free standing structure”. The structure was so iconic that it held the title of the tallest free standing tower in the world until 2009.

And in my heart, I always felt it was all for me.

When it was finally time to unveil this masterpiece, the company named it the CN tower.

Years after my birth, I realized the company and I had one thing in common: neither of us knew that the CN tower was constructed for me. It was a truth I stumbled upon recently. A discovery patiently waiting for me to find what its deeper, personal purpose was, and still is.

The CN tower kept calling my name, but I never listened. It begged me for attention. I had seen it multiple times. There was something about it – so majestic, the way it stood tall. So tall that everyone can see it from most parts of Toronto. It called me. But I ignored it. Just as I expected, it gave up and waited for my time, my moment. To see what purpose it was truly created for.

Months passed and I kept missing the signs.

However, my destiny changed on a beautiful day in September.

I had gone to visit a friend because I needed him to sign some documents. And just like that, he told me “Rukkie, I am moving out.”

“Really?” I asked. “Can I take over your lease please?”

“Sure.”

I walked around. It was a beautiful apartment. “Oh my! You have such an amazing view! Look! I can even see the CN tower!”

“Yes” he responded. “That’s the catch.”

I said yes to the deal and before I knew it, I found myself in an apartment with a breathtaking view of Toronto. The CN tower had waited long enough. And now, it was finally within my sight.

But still, I couldn’t hear it.  

At that time, there was too much noise around me, and I couldn’t discern between the chaos and what the tower was trying to tell me.

But on one fateful day, I finally heard it. I got the message it had been trying to deliver for decades – a message the tower was designed and built to deliver to me.  

It happened in the quiet and stillness of my being. My world was reeling. Not in a way that it came crashing down, but teetering on the edge. My world wasn’t stable. I wasn’t at my best. I tried.

Family called. Friends talked. Even random strangers online checked to see if I was okay. Everyone offered messages of hope and resilience. I had support – great support. But nothing worked at that time.

And then, I heard it.

It came in the form of a ray of light. I stood up to draw my curtains so the light would stop blinding me. But the message was so loud and clear. It was hypnotic. I kept looking straight ahead.

It was my clarion call. A call of duty. I knew I had to answer.

“I rise and I stand tall.”

The CN tower finally delivered its message.

This time, it didn’t come alone. It came with a friend. A companion that was taller, older and eternal.

It was the sun.

There was something dramatic and engaging about the message these two friends were trying to deliver together to me.

It felt like the tower was watching out for me. It had exhausted every trick it knew and at the right moment, called on the sun to help – to unleash every bit of light to draw me close.

The combined force of the sun and the tower was undeniable.

I cried. So hard. I finally got the message.

It was the message of hope and resilience. Everyone had tried to tell me, but the rising of the sun and the height of the tower showed me instead.

I stayed and looked until the tower’s friend disappeared. The tower and I stared at each other until I figured out a subtle message.

The tower might still be tall. Yes, it is and will be for almost forever. But it stopped being the tallest in 2009. Days, moments and feelings oscillate. Things change.

But remember who you are.