Rambling Nonsense on a Friday Night

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Sometimes it can feel like you are floating through life; the expectations that others have for you, weighing heavy on your thoughts.  You don’t know where you are going, and maybe only have a faint idea of where you would like to go but that isn’t good enough.  It’s not good enough for the hungry questions they keep asking you.  It’s not enough for the questioning and sometimes disappointed looks in their eyes.  According to them, you never made it and they feel responsible.  They feel responsible for some sick and selfish reason, that honestly has nothing to do with them.

Honesty aside, it possibly does have something to do with them.  If they weren’t always trying to steer you in the “right” direction and their expectations weren’t burning holes into you at night, then maybe you would have had a better idea of what YOU actually want.  Maybe, you might actually already be where you want to be (or maybe it would be easier to realize that you are there already).  It doesn’t matter if you have some big title, fancy house, and/or a wife and three kids.  No, it doesn’t matter if you have all your money organized, and put away into pretty little accounts, so you can go away on weekends.  It doesn’t matter if you fit into this nice little box of what it means to be an adult. None of that matters, unless it truly matters to YOU and you alone.

If you’re happy working odd jobs, travelling the world and living in your car…  being colourful or quiet or weird. If you dropped out of college because it just didn’t feel right… or if you never went at all, because you just couldn’t seem to fathom it, though everyone kept telling you that’s where you ought to be… If you’re happy with how you have chosen to move forward in life, then stop being unhappy because other people think that you should be.

Stop wasting time, waiting for the future that others have planned for you.  Go out there and just be you.  You don’t owe anyone a single thing.  There’s only one person you owe, and that person is yourself.  You owe yourself the motivation to do what is right for you, and the strength to stand by that.  You owe yourself kind words of support and optimism.  You owe yourself the chance to get off of the hamster wheel and to go to where you feel the most yourself.  You don’t really owe yourself much, but it’s worth a lifetime.

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More Birds, Bugs, and Boats

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There ended up being quite a few pictures I took that did not get inserted into my blog posts about my Kootenay travels so here are a few more of my favourites for your enjoyment. Here are a couple of … Continue reading

Birds, Bugs, and Boats Cont.

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Part II The Unlearning What began as an innocent dip of my toes into what my dad likes to call the “boat life”, became a complete lifestyle transformation.  I lived in rolled up jeans and bare feet, showering became a … Continue reading

Birds, Bugs, and Boats

Alas, I have returned.  I guess it has been about seven months since I’ve posted anything really but it wasn’t just a break from my blog… I ended up taking a whole break from my entire life as some would … Continue reading

Coping With the Loss of Your Written Content

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As many people don’t know, I have been (finally!) working on a new blog post to announce my return to the digital world and talking about where I’ve been hiding these past months.  I was having a really rough time getting the words out and had only written about two hundred within the past four days.  However, today was the day that nearly a thousand of them flooded my screen.  Part I of my return post was complete.  At least for a few short moments it was.  You see, I had thought that I had saved my work when I went to go preview it.  It hadn’t saved properly.  I was in denial when I couldn’t scroll below the two hundred words… that’s when the anger hit and I screamed, nearly throwing my laptop before running out of the room in disbelief and horror.  This is not a normal response from me and I know there are a lot of people who would not fully understand how much of an impact this moment had.  However, I know that somewhere, there are people who totally get it.

It is amazing how much of a difference one second can make to your day and your life.  I had just been smiling with pride moments before, excited about how the format would look finally published.  Then I lost my mind and went to stand in the shower for a while before coming back to search for an article about coping with the loss of written work.  There is no such article that I could find.

I thought that an article like that was sure to exist.  How could it not?  Google is supposed to have all of the answers in’t it?  Actually no, it doesn’t and for the first time in my little life, Google let me down.  I felt so alone, staring at the screen, realizing that maybe it was just me, alone with a blinking text cursor rubbing my fate in my face.

I would like to note that I am still going to rewrite my return post as though this one had never been written and hopefully it can be anywhere near as good as the original… but until then, here are some steps for coping with the loss of your written (or other creative) work.

I. Walk Away and Get Some Air.

II. Do Something Else for a Few Minutes (Hopefully something that makes you feel good… like sex or eating).

III. There Is More Where That Came From.

IV. It Doesn’t Have to be Exactly the Same to be Great.

V. Forget About It and Start Over Fresh.

VI. Rome Wasn’t Built In a Day (And I’m sure they had struggles too).

VII. You Are Not Alone.

VIII. Try Working on a Different Piece and Then Go Back to It.

IX. It’s Not Your Fault (Accidents happen. That’s what life and learning are all about).

X. This Too, Shall Pass.

My First Love

Mashing the back of the fork down on top of the eggs  is my favourite part.  I love to watch the yellow yolk as it streams out over the toast like syrup.  I smile at mum as she comes over to cut the toast and eggs into little pieces for me before heading back to bed.  It is the early morning, I am four, and these poached eggs on toast are my favourite meal.  There’s just something about the toast, the gooeyness of the egg, and the flavour of the pepper that just captivates the senses.  I don’t care that no one is sitting here with me, for I am too immersed in the enjoyment of this moment.  The warmth is filling up inside my belly as each tasty bit finds its way into my mouth and I fall in love. Finally the inevitable happens and I have eaten it all. I am saddened once no egg bits remain so I stay seated, staring at my empty plate.  Why couldn’t that moment have just lasted a little bit longer?

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Today, I am nineteen, and these poached eggs on toast are still my favourite meal.  However, my plate need no longer remain empty, for I can reach the stove.

 

All words and pictures are my own. ©