So. It is the eve of another calendar year, one which sees me sitting at home with a strong beer not planning to take the party far from where I now sit. What would I expect to happen if I went out? What would I expect to happen to change the course of my journey, which, in itself is more gradual than the drop of some balloons or a strange kiss and richer at that.
A bit over a year ago I got out of renting in Vancouver and moved into a minivan I purchased. It was, perhaps, one of the most singular impactful choices I have made in recent memory. And to think, it was one that I made out of some sense of anger, frustration, and unwillingness to accept status quo. Perhaps that's lesson one. The next lesson, however, is also valuable, and the reason, I suppose, that I choose to start a post to sum a year about living in a van. It is this: if what seemed rediculous or haphazrd actually turned out being completely achievable, rewarding and even fun, what other things are out there waiting for me (or others) to simply step out and try instead of waiting to be initiated or told that it is now socially acceptable?
It was a rich experience living in the Van, and I did so for about 7 months, though I would head back to the farm on many weekends which would append my showering and eating regiment. Near the end of my adventure, however, other adventures started opening up.
Perhaps I should stop and clarify that not everything was extremely optimistic at this time. I'd quite wrecked a relationship and I had some reckoning to do. It is the benefit of hindsight, sometimes, that it allows us to see the stories about ourselves that we'd rather tell- not, perhaps, the ones that make us look like sociopaths.
Anyways.
I was offered a really great job near the end of the school year (I was teaching at a fancy school in the Vancouver area) at the school I was currently working at. I had pretty well just decided, that I wasn't going to carry on with the position I had, in lieu of striking out on a new adventure. The new offer, however, made the decision to leave much more difficult and I spent quite some energy considering it and asking the opinion of friends about it. I don't know if i've ever been more on the fence with a decision. I remember that I was almost decided to take the job, and then right before my answer was coming due, I made a realization that switched my mind and I walked into my boss' office ( the classic, principle office trope ) and told her that I was turning down both the job I currently held and the one offered for the coming school season.
When I was accepted to a new job, she announced it at a staff meeting- sending me off with good feelings.
Ok, so the different job. This is an outdoor school gig that is really neat, but importantly, gave me some five months off in the off-season (nov-march) to do something else. This is the part that I am in now. Five months of focusing on music. A dream come true.
Now, with some 3 months to go, with some challenges but also forward movement I suppose I can head into 2019 by leaving some simple thoughts behind.
1. If you feel like you are slogging through a long and often-pointless-feeling season (like university or a job that is a means to an end) that the end might actually come someday and might feel quite unexpectedly worthwhile at that point. At that point, you might actually get to start dreaming and following through on dreams, because you've learned how to work, how to see things change slowly, and will have the education and maturity that society so values to give you the income or influence you need to make things go forward.
2. Maybe you don't need to be a professional or initiate to try something you've dreamed of. You can learn a lot on the job, and a creative mind is a wonderful thing.
3. If you sometimes ignore the feeing that you have to go along the typical strains of societal norms, you might find that you are in a completely feasible alternative which might not only create cultural change for the better, but open up a whole new world of possibility for yourself. This might mean trying something and then quitting it, because quitting isn't always such a bad thing. It might mean picking just one thing to focus on and making it a reality through intentional and strategic means. It might mean taking a hit on your income to do something that you feel compelled is more important.
We change. Maybe this is one of the great acceptances that generally happens in one's thirties. We change, and that's cool. What is also cool, however, is recognizing the ways we are the same, and the ways in which our relations remain steady, even if the way they look alter. Perhaps one of the most beautiful thing about our human stories is that we change alongside one another. Maybe not unlike that layered cliff I marvelled over today out at Mystic Beach. Layers belie time, and result in something that is still in flux, but beautiful and astounding and layered and simple all along. Here we are, with the depths of disconcerting news from this past calendar year, but maybe with the hope that the stories we tell this year will be full of conviction, ingenuity, and beauty.
And Love. May we keep finding it. May it keep finding us.
A bit over a year ago I got out of renting in Vancouver and moved into a minivan I purchased. It was, perhaps, one of the most singular impactful choices I have made in recent memory. And to think, it was one that I made out of some sense of anger, frustration, and unwillingness to accept status quo. Perhaps that's lesson one. The next lesson, however, is also valuable, and the reason, I suppose, that I choose to start a post to sum a year about living in a van. It is this: if what seemed rediculous or haphazrd actually turned out being completely achievable, rewarding and even fun, what other things are out there waiting for me (or others) to simply step out and try instead of waiting to be initiated or told that it is now socially acceptable?
It was a rich experience living in the Van, and I did so for about 7 months, though I would head back to the farm on many weekends which would append my showering and eating regiment. Near the end of my adventure, however, other adventures started opening up.
Perhaps I should stop and clarify that not everything was extremely optimistic at this time. I'd quite wrecked a relationship and I had some reckoning to do. It is the benefit of hindsight, sometimes, that it allows us to see the stories about ourselves that we'd rather tell- not, perhaps, the ones that make us look like sociopaths.
Anyways.
I was offered a really great job near the end of the school year (I was teaching at a fancy school in the Vancouver area) at the school I was currently working at. I had pretty well just decided, that I wasn't going to carry on with the position I had, in lieu of striking out on a new adventure. The new offer, however, made the decision to leave much more difficult and I spent quite some energy considering it and asking the opinion of friends about it. I don't know if i've ever been more on the fence with a decision. I remember that I was almost decided to take the job, and then right before my answer was coming due, I made a realization that switched my mind and I walked into my boss' office ( the classic, principle office trope ) and told her that I was turning down both the job I currently held and the one offered for the coming school season.
When I was accepted to a new job, she announced it at a staff meeting- sending me off with good feelings.
Ok, so the different job. This is an outdoor school gig that is really neat, but importantly, gave me some five months off in the off-season (nov-march) to do something else. This is the part that I am in now. Five months of focusing on music. A dream come true.
Now, with some 3 months to go, with some challenges but also forward movement I suppose I can head into 2019 by leaving some simple thoughts behind.
1. If you feel like you are slogging through a long and often-pointless-feeling season (like university or a job that is a means to an end) that the end might actually come someday and might feel quite unexpectedly worthwhile at that point. At that point, you might actually get to start dreaming and following through on dreams, because you've learned how to work, how to see things change slowly, and will have the education and maturity that society so values to give you the income or influence you need to make things go forward.
2. Maybe you don't need to be a professional or initiate to try something you've dreamed of. You can learn a lot on the job, and a creative mind is a wonderful thing.
3. If you sometimes ignore the feeing that you have to go along the typical strains of societal norms, you might find that you are in a completely feasible alternative which might not only create cultural change for the better, but open up a whole new world of possibility for yourself. This might mean trying something and then quitting it, because quitting isn't always such a bad thing. It might mean picking just one thing to focus on and making it a reality through intentional and strategic means. It might mean taking a hit on your income to do something that you feel compelled is more important.
We change. Maybe this is one of the great acceptances that generally happens in one's thirties. We change, and that's cool. What is also cool, however, is recognizing the ways we are the same, and the ways in which our relations remain steady, even if the way they look alter. Perhaps one of the most beautiful thing about our human stories is that we change alongside one another. Maybe not unlike that layered cliff I marvelled over today out at Mystic Beach. Layers belie time, and result in something that is still in flux, but beautiful and astounding and layered and simple all along. Here we are, with the depths of disconcerting news from this past calendar year, but maybe with the hope that the stories we tell this year will be full of conviction, ingenuity, and beauty.
And Love. May we keep finding it. May it keep finding us.
