The relevance of time

I’ll never stop loving the sky

If i ever stop and think about everything I’ve been through, I almost can’t believe just how much of it has really happened. I often wonder how it is that I keep going as if I have never failed before. And yet, I’ve been told time and time again that I need to stop being so insecure. It’s such a funny thing. I despise cockiness, and entitlement and try my best not to fall into either characteristic1.

Five years ago, I was moving into a beautiful house in the Junction Triangle and leaving a job I absolutely loved due to a series of unfortunate circumstances2. It was a two-bedroom first-floor-of-a-fully-detached-house apartment, with gorgeous french doors between the living room and the office3, an enormous kitchen, bathroom and backyard. I loved that house. I was just beginning my journey as a freelancer4. Which, I’d like to think I’ve gotten really good at but my still-almost-always-near-empty bank account tells me that I have a LOT more work to do to really get better at it. I also thought I was finally healed after a horrendous betrayal by a lover5. I would later learn that the scars from that betrayal weren’t actually healed, I was merely self-medicating extremely efficiently and masking the pain. A lot has actually happened between now and then, but to be honest, I can’t say that my life feels that much different than it did back then.

I certainly feel like a different person: I’m more confident; I give less fucks. There are things I’m unhappy about, but I’ve been trying something6 since January that I hope will finally make the difference. I also feel like I’m getting more cynical, and honestly, I don’t like it. I’ve always cared about people – whether they were close friends, or acquaintances – as if they were the most precious people on the planet and I genuinely believed that about each and everyone of them. I’m finding my ability to feel that way waning, and it’s honestly breaking my heart. I believe this is the result of the work I’ve been doing to practice better emotional first-aid, and self-care. I refuse to believe that this shift is permanent, however. I think that maybe this is just an exercise in self-preservation. I’m sure I’ll be back to my slightly-naive, ever-optimistic, caring-sharing-lovey-dovey self soon enough.

Either that, or I’ve finally actually grown up and I’m going to take even less of your bullshit than I ever used to ūüėČ

Happy Birthday to Me. Love y’all.
Footnotes:
  1. I doubt that I’ve been 100% successful, but I would like to think that I’m successful most of the time[]
  2. i.e. bed bugs, and some irresponsibility on my part[]
  3. originally a dining room[]
  4. in all of the things[]
  5. who turned out to be quite the sociopath[]
  6. minimalism[]

When change hurts

It has been a journey to say the least. The last few months have been a wonderful whirlwind of ups, downs and important lessons and realizations. I think the one lesson that I didn’t expect to learn after all this is that despite being able to adapt to my surroundings extremely well -how much my bearings are affected if I don’t have a proper place to sleep.

For the last three months I have been sleeping on my Ikea love-seat because I couldn’t sleep on my bed1 until three nights ago. Depending on what way you look at it, you could say it cost me a lot but I don’t think placing blame on circumstance does me any good so it just is what it was: a learning experience. Heck, it didn’t kill me right?

30 years. As of some time in the late evening on November 7th, the cells and whatever spirit that make up this girl right here would have been alive for 30 years. I’ll admit there is a part of me that feels like a bit of a disappointment but then there’s another part of me that knows that my life is only just beginning so long as I allow myself the chance at said beginning.

Live each day as if it were your last. Someone great said that to me recently as we were walking the 6.5kms to my new home2 at 4am. By the way, don’t let the knowledge of this act taint your image of bohunkCA; he was the perfect jerk as always – and yes ladies, he was totally topless the whole way there ūüėČ

I want to make an art out of living life, where I find joy in every little moment of every day – regardless of what is going on at the time. Growing up, I had never really paid much attention to the things that really made my heart soar. I knew the obvious things like music3, food, love, and sex… all those self-indulgent sort of things. But now I’m paying more attention to how happy it makes me to be around people like my family and closest friends4.

I know I have lot of work to do up ahead of me but I do think I am up to the task. It feels strange to say that I have never really felt this ready before but I guess I’m just done being afraid. I’m still in the process of getting my life back but I have no doubt that whatever is coming next is going to be amazing. It’s been amazing even when it should have been horrible so how could it not?!

I want to know though: did you love or hate turning 30?

Footnotes:
  1. I really don’t want to say it, don’t make me say it: I had bed bugs[]
  2. it was so old school I couldn’t resist but agree to walk home with him[]
  3. specifically singing[]
  4. the ones who have stuck by me no matter what fucked up shit I’ve done – you know who you are[]

Mummy

As I grow older and we,
Slowly become friends,
I realise what defines me,
As a girl, as a woman,
can be traced back to you.

Your warmth and care,
Your goofy jokes,
Your energy,
Your mind,
Always make me smile.

Its a treasure to know you,
More so to love you,
Even still to be loved by you,
I hope you always know,
My brother and I,
will always need you.

Happy Birthday Mummy.

Happy Birthday dear brother!

Dear brother,

I used to hate you. I hated you until I realised how immature and selfish I was being for doing so. You see, I wasn’t always as mature as I am now1 and I was also spoiled for 7 years being the only child and the first grandchild and the only granddaughter for a while. So when you took my Mummy away from me that Christmas Eve that you were born and put her in the hospital to give birth to you, you can’t really blame me for being jealous of you.

Another reason you can’t blame is because you were so darn cute. I look back now on your baby pictures and I must have known how adorable you were; so much more adorable than I was: with your angel white skin and your dark brown hair and eyes – I must’ve been really worried that Mummy and Daddy weren’t going to love me or want me anymore.

So I fought with you, beat you and made you cry, every chance I got. And now we’re both in our 20’s2, and you’ve never once been mean to me. Sure you get cranky sometimes, but who wouldn’t be when they’re awoken from deep slumber to go out shopping for Mum & Dad’s Christmas presents in the cold, cold winter weather that is Toronto. But you’ve always been a great brother, and even though you’ve learnt a few other bad habits from me… you’ve never been mean to me the way I was mean to you. And for that I thank you.

Without asking you to, you forgave me and for that alone you are the best brother a girl could ever ask for. But there is so much more that makes you awesome3.

I hope¬†we are able to¬†give you¬†a great birthday celebration, even though we’re only driving down to Niagara Falls4. I hope that you get everything that your heart desires and that¬†we are able to celebrate¬†many, many more of your birthdays.

Lots of love,

Your sister.

Footnotes:
  1. forgetting the fact that I still have a long way to grow[]
  2. albeit, I’m in my late 20’s and you’re celebrating your 21st[]
  3. but I’m not going to go on about them either hehehe[]
  4. which isn’t quite Las Vegas – where you wanted to go[]