Dimsumthing

Victim

2011-11-26T01:14:00.003-08:00

The fog sits on the shadowy, high-rise rooftops
Wet and weighty, ominous,
As if wiping a damp brush over everything exposed to the night.
The sun escaped the eve's oppression hours prior.
Every time I inhale, it leaves a saccharine, dank film on my tongue.

As I reach the building, I can feel the night's weight on me.
I light up the button for the tenth floor
I enter the steel capsule to head skyward.
As the door closes, the only thing in the air is the smell of you.
The scent is sweet and onerous.
I know you're waiting.
But not for me.

The scent torments me
As if it knew to be patient
And linger
Like the fog out the window,
Lying in wait because a victim, a sacrifice has been selected.

The metal cage bellows it's arrival. Tenth floor.
As I exit, I indulge in the stank of hallway cigarettes
For a silent moment before plunging through the door,
Taking in the grey blanket that hangs beyond the glass.
I'm full of the knowing that you're there
And that you're waiting,
But not for me.

T

Take your words

2011-10-24T06:03:00.001-07:00

I'm the first to admit
And the first to be taken aback
When you make beautiful music
Whether it be filling a stairway when you think you're all alone
Or when you're joined in unison
By countless other soaring voices to fill a concert hall.
It cannot and does not
Change the fact that when I listen to your songs
My heart breaks
And it's impossible to place my hands upon
Anything but the sadness
Concealed inside all the interstitial space
In my soul.
Your voice, when it carries on the wind to my ears,
Brings rain and cloud
And an inability to escape the tapping on my tin roof
Of course it's possible that such sound can be soothing
But those constant raindrops hold the power
To break the stone sculpture in the garden
If given enough time.

So take your songs
And take your words
And keep them to yourself
Before they shipwreck me on some unseen rock
Or maroon me upon some unknown isle.
Take them so I don't have to drown.

T

Arbitrary titles

2011-10-23T05:32:00.001-07:00

I'm all alone in the crowd around me
And I'm lost in the haze of all this sunshine
The wake you left when sailin' away
Has left me wonderin' will anyone ever be mine.

If you can ever find the time
Send me a postcard, but don't spend more than a dime
Take it as a simple sign
That there's no reason in my rhyme.

T

Platform

2011-10-17T02:51:00.002-07:00

The wind's picked up and the sky's gone black
While the strangers, they're still staring.
The train doors stayed closed and tightly chained
While I remained alone, still waiting.

I bought a ticket and it remains in hand
But it's an anchor, not a buoy
It pulls me down while keeping me still
And I get left behind like a childhood toy

But worse than that, it was conscious decision
Of the conductor to leave me be
He saw me on the platform, ready to go
But he said he was settin' me free

I asked myself why I couldn't be
The author of that decision
A voice piped up and told me clear
That I couldn't commit to such a decision

So I guess on this platform with bag in hand
Is where I'll have to stay
While I grow a spine and wile away the time
Wondering, if I see her, exactly what I'll say

I don't know what to say
I can't find what I want to say
Find your words and tell me
Everything you want me to say.
On this platform is where I'll stay.

Balancing...

2011-10-09T05:54:00.003-07:00

... is what I attempt to do in most aspects of my life. Whether it be my eating habits, my fitness regimen, or my work-to-play ratio. But lately it seems like it's been a challenge to balance what I want in the now and what I desire long-term.

I had a conversation with a friend of mine last night about such things, and she echoed my sentiments in many ways. We both went through times where we were with people for a while but knew in the backs of our minds that it wasn't going to be "it". And even though the companionship and comfort was there, it wasn't enough. My most recent real relationship ended for this reason. And although I'm happy with my decision to move on, I still often crave the companionship of someone. In small moments, weaker moments, it feels as though anyone will do. But I know me well enough to know that it's just a temporary solution (a scratched itch) to something buried much further in the recesses of who I am. I often crave the attention and companionship of others. I often seek out such connections, and with my closest friends I hide little and reveal much. But friendship can only go so far, especially at the age I'm at. With every calendar year, another marriage takes place, another apartment is packed up and transplanted in another part of the country or world, and another soul returns to the place from whence it came. Although these things don't take away the experiences that have been had, they often change or take away what could be. So like building a house on sand, things shift and become unstable. And so here I stand. Nothing but my shadow beside me.

A few people that have met me since my divorce (and even since my recent break-up) have asked me if I regretted anything about these relationships and how they ended or what happened in the pain/frustration of their wake. And my response continues to be the same: no. And I try to think about my life in general and I really have few things I regret. I've said foolish things in my past where some people have been offended or hurt, and there have been nights that I wish I hadn't indulged in that final whiskey, but I have few decisions I actually regret. Regret implies that you wish they wouldn't have happened. And even in the most brutal, shame- or rage-filled events of my past, I've always taken something away from it. Sure, I've thought about how I could've done things differently or reacted in another way to various things, but I continue to find these moments being the moments where I learn the most about myself (and sometimes about those around me as well). When I finally took off my wedding ring for the last time, I knew I was making the right decision for me, no matter how broken I felt. And as I said goodbye to the last companion, I likewise knew that it was necessary and I hadn't found what I was looking for quite yet.

I think that the time over this past week of holidays reinforced these sentiments a lot for me. I traveled south to Shanghai on my own, knowing that few familiar faces would be around and knowing that I'd have a lot of time living in my own head. It's definitely something I sought out and pursued, so it's not something I feel any sort of resentment toward. But this self-isolation doesn't cease to bring up the same feelings... that being able to share your experiences and your life with another person is something valuable. And it's something that I continue to seek. It's not a desperate need or a anxiety-inducing hope. It's just something that lingers in the silent moments, in foggy days, in glasses of wine or in the glance of a stranger.

The picture below is from my trip to Borneo and Mount Kinabalu. Seemed to fit. Until again...

T

New starts (more lines, more uncertainties, more words, words, words)

2011-09-25T02:46:00.001-07:00

I'm standing here facing a new intersection
And I'm thinking about the possibility of another reinvention
While my friends laugh and joke about a personal intervention
I wonder what it'll look like when I get my own attention
I just can't seem to get my own attention

So on I walk, and further I'll go
New faces to meet and new seeds to sow
Some time on my own to wonder and to grow
Where I'll end up is impossible to know

I said goodbye again today and left it all behind
I didn't shed a tear because I already knew it in my mind
I smiled as I walked away, knowing that I'll find
Someone to make everything in my world shine
Why can't I hold on to anything that will make my world shine

But on I walk and further I'll go
New faces to meet and new seeds to sow
Some time on my own to wonder and to grow
Where I'll end up, only time will really show.

T

Disjunct sets and lines and quatrains

2011-09-24T06:09:00.006-07:00

It's getting on,
It's late into the evening
As I wander through these halls alone
I wonder what I'm missing

I picked up a broom earlier today
To sweep up all that's broken
I found myself sweeping up myself
With the broom that I was holding

I can't get past all these shadowed rooms
That lie quiet in the dark
Some say they're harmless, they cannot bite
But they've seem to have made their mark

I'm slipping on Fridays, sliding on Saturdays
And Sundays I try to find my feet

Falling hurts more when you jump in
And never seem to find the bottom.

Subtle betrayals

2011-09-11T06:59:00.000-07:00

The sun outside my window
Is betraying my misery
I'm stuck here, sitting, thinking
of all the places I'd rather be.

Curses (incomplete thoughts)

2011-09-09T20:43:00.002-07:00

Curses cross the oceans
As do lightning storms
The winds blow in
Their regret and sin
And leave before the morn

T

Long hiatuses

2011-09-05T15:05:00.003-07:00

Another murder lies beyond my window
These birds just cannot seem
To quell their morning howling
Or to stop indulging in their screams
Dark omens cause these small concerns
To flit like sparrows in the yard
But I know the places I am goin'
Well, they'll be taking me real far
And so the day still shines on
And there's sunlight all around
Old hearts will find the strength to mend
And new selves will be found

TM

Lenses

2011-06-02T07:30:00.001-07:00

There's any number of endless days
Where I only see through a wide angle lens
An expanse of the blue-green horizon
That stretches on past the periphery
Of all I knew in yesterday

There are other, more uncertain days
Where every moment is lived out of focus
Like an attempt to see through
The fog of a mirror after a morning shower
Or in sunglasses clouded by breath
Before having the chance to be wiped clear

Finally, there are those days
That, in a lucky moment
Or in the precise conspiracy of time and light and patience
That the shutter click captures
Truth
However fleeting
And however temporary
A perfect moment
Where that very moment is fully presented
Before disappearing forever.

These are the moments we chase in film.

And in our dreams.

T

When

2011-04-17T04:08:00.001-07:00

As I'm starin' out this window
I'm watchin' the sun goin' down
And I'm wondering about each moment
Up ahead

But darlin', don't be worried
Whatever place I'm headin' to
You can be sure that sooner or later
I'll find my way.

Well it's true I ain't no palm reader
And I lost my crystal ball
I'm fresh out of magic potions
But I know I ain't lost no more.

Baby, all I know is
I ain't lost no more.

- TM

When you let it all build

2011-04-12T06:15:00.001-07:00

You've become adept at being strong
And letting everyone know
That it's all under control
But you like to keep secrets
Neglecting to mention
That it's hatred creating those calluses
And the anger that's making you hard

So build up all those walls around you
And let all those bricks shut out the sunshine
It's your fortress, after all
And you have to stay protected
Wrapped up and safe when your lay down your head

Just remember that in the meantime
You gotta find time to grow
Take a little water and reach toward the sky.

You let it all build
You stack it all up
But one day, baby
You'll have to let it all fall
Down.
Down.
Down.

- TM

Adolescent finger games

2011-03-08T05:18:00.001-08:00

Standing silent, the invisible topic of conversation, watching thumb wars and tag competitions and adolescent finger games between wordless lovers who speak a million miles a minute with a gaze or smirk. Toe taps and finger snaps accompany the repetitive nod of my head as high-hats click and ring, crash and sing along with words full of love that's gone missing. Ain't that always the thing... endless thoughts about what life has brought and brings.

What I got

2011-01-15T05:32:00.001-08:00

I'm steppin' out the door again
Wondering where my feet will fall
I got myself a plane ticket
But no plan, darlin'... no plan at all

I got myself a world of plans
And no idea about what lies ahead
I'm lettin' this will decide
Where I'll start and where it will all end

A story from the day...

2011-01-04T04:50:00.002-08:00

... as I was supervising my English class today as they were writing the essay component of their semester final, I was too cold to sit and grade other assignments (the north China wind was blowing too incessantly in my classroom window) so I decided to write a narrative on the same prompt as the kids. Enjoy.

*********************

My toes are curled over the edge of the building. I'm sure the question has to be asked: "What are you doing standing on the top of a high-rise with your toes wrapped around the stone lip of the ledge?" It has a simple answer, but you're not going to like it. It's an answer you're going to hate: I'm done. This is the end for me.

It's impossible to pinpoint one moment in time where this was a foregone conclusion. Don't misunderstand… my life's been brutal. I don't know if the fates have crafted this as an inevitable ending to my miserable, somewhat brief existence on the planet. Nonetheless, here I stand and that's not going to change.

One of the first big things was the divorce. No, not my divorce. I'm a kid. Well, I'm a kid in the sense of the typical designation. Seventeen isn't so much a kid in actual living terms when you look back on the "Greatest Hits" list of my life. And regardless, it happened when I was still in the more non-self-aware stages of life, where my only concerns were a clean diaper and food. I guess in certain ways life isn't so different now, but it's still an important distinction to make.

When it happened, I was a big inconvenience. My dad was a junkie, my mom was attempting to battle her own demons of booze and an abusive boyfriend, not to mention a meaningless job at Saver Mart. As you may have guessed, she didn't exactly run the show. About two months after I was born, my dad took off and he hasn't exactly sent much in the way of birthday cards. I got five bucks in one that was three months late when I was about five years old, but other than that, he's been MIA. He took my mom's car. Are you beginning to spot the run-on of cliches? Of course, he hasn't been around since. I think I saw a movie like this once. I guess I didn't think I'd have a starring role as the hopeless misfit.

The second big event came when I was about six years old. I woke up one morning in the spring time and my mom wasn't in her bedroom. Or in the bathroom. We lived in a dumpy, beat up mobile home on the outskirts of Welling, Alberta. Oh, you've never heard of Welling? Then you'll probably guess that it's not home to a giant hockey stick or monstrous rubber tire. Not much to see other than farmers combining and tumbleweeds rolling down the highway. And coyotes. Lots of coyotes. Anyway, I called out a few times. I was already pretty unhappy most of the time but knew how to cope. I could make food (as long as it didn't involve more than one pot… I was a wizard with grilled cheese or Iciban instant noodles). But as I called out more and more, I knew that something had different. I waited. I tried playing card games but just couldn't stay focused. I kept calling.

I then heard a BANG on the door to the trailer. I figured it was mom, drunk again and just falling into the door. But it wasn't. It was my neighbor Debbie. Some people called her Deborah. I always thought that she seemed more like a Deb. I don't know why. Well, as I opened the door, I saw Debbie's makeup was a mess and tears were streaming down her face. The only thing she kept saying was, "Baby. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

It was a few days before I found out that my mom had been killed in a car accident. She'd been drinking after work again and drove her car off the side of the road and into the canal running beside Johnson's farm. I'll spare you the details, but it was grisly.

The rest of my life seemed like a series of unfortunate events. Or more like a Sunday night, made-for-TV special that suburban, two-parent homes would find heart-wrenching and would cause a whole lot of weeping and hugging of kids who don't believe that it's likely and therefore have no real urge to kiss their mom and dad goodnight. My routine was full of group homes, foster parent interviews, more group homes, a stint in juvey for having a knife on me at school during a fight (I never took it out, but after getting thrown to the ground it flew from my pocket). I got kicked out of the school… that was number three. And I did another stint for having a bit of pot on me at school (school number four… same result as previous). At this point, there weren't many people who had faith in me getting out of the rut. There were a few sympathetic counselors and such who urged me toward the right path. But in all honesty, it just didn't hold a lot of interest for me. I didn't see a point and didn't have much ambition to make more of myself. Having a warm bed was nice. The rest of it meant nothing.

Well, I guess you could say that the straw for this camel was the robbery. Yes, this time it was me. This kid Bobby from group home number five convinced me that we should get some cash by holding up a convenience store. He explained that it would be a simple hold-up job… that we'd just pretend to be armed (by flashing fake replica 9mms at the staff and jacking the register). Then we'd take off for the coast and start new out there. I know… in hindsight this doesn't seem like it could go anywhere but wrong. And that's exactly where it went.

It turns out that the replicas weren't exactly replicas. Bobby pulled his piece after we kicked in the door and after having a confrontation with the owner, blasted off two shots into the ceiling. I freaked a bit… in all my reckless behavior, I was never the violent type. The fights were more survival than anything and I never actually had the urge to hurt anyone. I just mainly wanted to be left alone and got a bit angry when people wouldn't comply. After the warning shots, Bobby took the owner to the floor and as I was shaking like a leaf, I started toward the register. I had the gun in my hand because the idea of blasting a shot into my groin did not appeal to me at all and I was scared as hell. So I jumped the counter, but in doing so, rested my right hand on the countertop. I've never attempted to hop a counter with a gun in my hand. Yep, another good guess… I accidentally pulled the trigger. And knowing my luck, you can assume what happened next: the shot avoided all merchandise shelving and advertising and went straight through the chest of some middle-aged guy who just wanted to buy a six-pack.

Maybe there was a way out. Not so much anymore. And anyway, I don't have any interest in going to jail… especially REAL jail. Nope. I'm ready to cut my losses. Even in all the bleary-eyed intoxication, mom always said there was something on the other side. Whatever it is, it can't be worse than this place. And a guy has to pay the price for his actions. I never expected it to be this way when Debbie stopped by when I was six years old, but my experiences brought me here and there's nothing I can do to escape them now. Just one more step… I guess I'll see you over there. Whatever that other side thing is.

TM

Brief Reflections

2011-01-03T00:35:00.001-08:00

I reflect on all the happenings
Of all I've seen and all I've been through
And although I might be walking away
My thoughts continue to turn to you

You came in unexpected
Sat down and decided to stay
But now we're at a crossroads, darling
And I'm not sure if we'll live another day

I cannot tell you what the decision will be
Which way the wind will blow
So forgive my current uncertainty
About whether to stay or whether to go

T

Picking up what remains

2010-12-28T03:43:00.001-08:00

As a prairie fire, you've torn through all the safeguards I had in place and you threaten to jump the fireline I burned in my own flesh to keep from going up in flames again. There are currently moments when all I want to do is scare you off, wave the flames in front of your face so you startle and dash back to the place from where you crept so many nights ago. I wake up drenched, not with rain but with the sweat and anxiety of uncertainty, my mind changing frames faster than a movie playing in perpetual fast-forward. And I sit, paralyzed, wondering if I have the courage to take back what I feel is being stealthily stolen from me as I sleep.

Maybe this is all a big misunderstanding. But at my door you remain. And the fire burns on. And there's still no relief... no rain.

T

The walk away

2010-12-20T11:05:00.001-08:00

It's 3am, the sky is black
But baby, I ain't sleepin'
All my strength ain't strong enough
To keep away this dreamin'
Every time I close my eyes
My mind just keeps on racin'
And I'm wonderin' if I have the strength
To fight against what I'm feelin

I need to walk away, run away
And leave it all behind
I need to walk away, fly away

You tell me sorry, that it ain't you
And tomorrow's a better day
But there's just too much on the line
The price is too high to pay
So pick your side and show your hand
Your bed is where you'll lay
'Cause if you've shown me everything
There's nothing left to say

Only the walk away, this walk away
There's nothing else to do
I need to walk away.
I need to walk away.

T

Lamplight

2010-12-12T06:11:00.001-08:00

It's another evening in the lamplight, listening to the frozen rain lightly click and tap against the window glass. It covered my jacket just a few minutes ago, but now slowly drips to the floor in minute lakes that will be gone by the time the morning comes. No light reaches that part of the floor by the shoe rack, so they dry in silence. The weekend has found me full of contemplation as one nearby has been forced to acknowledge a whole world of emotion that she's been burying for years. Both of us are wondering how to proceed.

When confronted with death, no matter what the scenario, it's hard to avoid looking inward. In her case, she was hit with it as if being hit directly in the chest with an avalanche. I can only assume that she's feeling the equivalent of a suffocating pressure as she considers what to feel, what to do, what's expected of her. The irony lies in the answers to her anxiety... the expectations are meaningless, the decisions will come with time, and the feelings are no more than what courses through our veins. We can't always choose how we feel, but we always have control over how we react.

While's she's confronting questions of mortality and reconciliation, I once again consider what's passed... I consider the power of a face-down photo in the far reaches of an ill-used room here and how it's discovery can manipulate perspective. I consider the power of my words and my deeds as we near the holiday season. And I think about those who are with me now and those who lie in bed an ocean away. I wonder about will come in future days... months... years. I think about how simple life used to seem and how I felt that if I could only get a hold of one given aspect of life, that it'd all make sense. Strange how fleeting that control and understanding ends up being (that is until it's too late, of course).

I wonder about humanity, both mine and that of others. I wonder about my place in this community and the bigger community of my life. And I'm continually regarding my own needs (and neediness) with curiosity.

As the rain continues to tap away, I attempt to roll away to sleep. Let words be my balm to soothe my sleep.

T

On the inside

2010-12-11T22:16:00.001-08:00

Crawl deep down inside yourself
It's safer to be alone
Curl up real tight and hide for a while
Ignore all that light you're shown
Shut out the world and cradle the pain
It's taken you this far
The only hitch is that you forgot
Exactly who you are

T

Butterflies

2010-12-09T05:34:00.001-08:00

It's like I'm living on the cusp of a shadow
Or on a cliff over a cloud
Impossible to see what's immediately below me
A butterfly tempts me to step off
Take flight

The thought in my head
Is "Stay back from the sun, my boy,
It's no place for you
And your wax-fixed wings"
So I stall
And ponder

I wonder if the beauty
Is merely fleeting
And what that winged beast holds for me
So I stay

There was another butterfly long ago
Who convinced me to fly
And only after I let go
After I jumped
Did I drown

Or so it seemed

But as I pen these words
I realize
That it was that moment
Where I finally learned to swim

T

An old poem...

2010-11-28T05:57:00.001-08:00

I believe I wrote this either during my teaching practicum or while I was living my old life...

The world from the sidelines

Who's on the sidelines when the world is at war?
Who speaks of justice as you walk out the door
On your way to your job or your kid or your car
When bombs are destroying our world from afar?
There are innocent victims who die everyday
While kids are in morgues when they just wanted to play
In the street near their home with a ball and a friend
How can we justify such tragic ends?

But we only hears cracks that resemble the whisper
Of the wind in the trees or the door on the crisper
We retreat to our 'burbs with our kids and our car
Dreaming big dreams while guns fire from afar.
We have all ten fingers, our toes are in tact
And we're free from most harms and the fear of attacks.
We look to our flag and most constantly we say
Freedom is here… that's all far away.

When you hear a small crack that resembles a breath
It's easy to ignore and to think not of death
But when guns come so close and you're crying with fear
You'll realize it's not far, but the violence is near.
We cannot retreat when we open our eyes
The world's a train wreck, even something to despise.
But that's not a reason to shut it all out
In the defense of injustice, we beg you to shout.

T

Dawn to dusk

2010-11-19T03:15:00.001-08:00

Today brought another day full of thoughts
About those loves that never were
Filling up pages in a book
But as if they were dreams
Faded and lost as the morning rolls on
Or cut out
Like pictures chopped from magazines
For a high school collage project
The remnants abandoned
Upon the art room floor
And the words are cut into unintelligible pieces
Never to be reconciled again with language
Or the messages they carried

Now as the day rolls into darkness
I think about the world being a new dream
One that won't fade into obscurity
Or be carelessly abandoned to the dust pile
In a corner

No
It will hold on
Find roots
And grow

T

"When"... bad days

2010-11-16T04:16:00.001-08:00

The morn began with sunlight
But faded quickly as the sand-filled skies
Seeped in past my windows
And my mind
Quiet and sombre
Like a funeral procession

One fiery tongue was made known
Presenting itself in the waning morning hours
And then another
And even more still
Until the day filled up
With the bitter taste of battery acid
And only
Escape
Could soothe the burns remaining
And act as the salve to take the pain away.

When the morning tastes
Like the blade of a scythe
The only release is the death of the day
Found in the starlit darkness of night.

Here I sit in the quiet

When the day has found it's end.

T

A day

2010-11-11T15:18:00.001-08:00

"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori" is the ironic reference/inscription in the famous poem by Wilfred Owen. Sharing a moment of silence with my students who didn't understand the day but could understand the concept was a special experience. However, their connection with November 11th is much different. In the meantime...

Lest we forget.

T

Marks

2010-11-08T17:41:00.001-08:00

I'm in a perpetual state of saying hello
And then immediately saying goodbye
Packing boxes and sending them abroad
Stepping foot in new, unfamiliar lands
Taking a photo
Then walking off toward the horizon

I smile, shake hands
And disappear in the distance

I wonder if, in my experiences with others,
If I tread lightly
Barely disturbing the slight film of dust
On the souls of my friends
Or exist as a breeze
Which barely caresses an ear or cheek

I want to leave a real mark
Stamp my initials on their hearts
With an iron brand
Or carve our story upon their flesh
Like a declaration of love
Upon an oak tree

I want the scar I leave to be cherished
And recalled for decades to come
Never to be mourned
Because I want people to know
That in those moments
We lived.

T

No skies

2010-10-28T22:49:00.001-07:00

I walked out into the world today
And noticed that there was no colour
Above my head
No sun, no hint of blue

Just canvas
And a pail of oils at my feet

There was a note alongside
That little bucket of paints
Telling me
That it was time for me to paint the sky
And colour in everything
That hid behind my eyes

T

Another post of random bits and thoughts

2010-10-22T19:50:00.001-07:00

A few of my own...

All things fiction are borne of reality and live as sparks in a man's heart before they find life in ink and parchment, whether presented in the realistic, fantastic, or mythic.

Some believe that mistakes cut deep and they may do their best to avoid them... but this is true only insofar as the chisel cuts deep through stone to reveal the form hiding therein. Should the sculptor avoid swinging his mallet toward the rock?

And a few quotes from Anais Nin:

"The preoccupation of the novelist: how to capture the living moments, was answered by the diary. You write while you are alive. You do not preserve them in alcohol until the moment you are ready to write about them."

"The final lesson a writer learns is that everything can nourish the writer. The dictionary, a new word, a voyage, an encounter, a talk on the street, a book, a phrase learned."

Goodnight.

2010-10-18T07:08:00.001-07:00

I'm bidding my city a sort of quiet goodnight tonight, watching the rain pour down over the tile and concrete and glass that surrounds me; I battled through what can only be described as a bout of bitter melancholy today. It was only a day, as I hope for better things to come tomorrow. But the sort of angry, nearly metallic taste still lingers as if on my and makes me dread tomorrow's alarm. It came so quickly today, and I know tomorrow won't be much different. But maybe my dreams will be sweet instead of morose, and my head will rise in contentment instead of jaded frustration. Things pile. And collect. And sometimes you can actually feel their weight. Like a foot on your throat. I felt this today. The weight. And it's of my own making. The only solution: to unmake it. Tomorrow, there's a plan. End.

T

Question-based ramblings...

2010-10-12T07:08:00.001-07:00

Just a warning... this is more just an indulgence in streaming the nonsensical things from my brain into print... I haven't thought them through enough to know if they make sense...

***

Why does it feel, so often, like we're examples of mutual exclusion? This one or that one, but never both...

And why does a public expression seem to make for a heretical declaration?

How can a toe in the water make such a wonderful drowning?

What need have we for buoys when gills line our sides?

And what of sunlight when we can see so well under stars and moonlight?

- T

New looks

2010-10-11T06:29:00.001-07:00

Thought I'd try out a new template. I've had the same black background for years now, so I thought it was time for an upgrade. Let me know what you think.

T

Coming down

2010-10-09T22:50:00.001-07:00

A journal entry shortly after returning home from my holiday in Shanghai...

***

I'm sitting inside my stillness with pianos and guitars swimming around my ears. I can taste the silence of winter in the night air and for the first time this year I notice how abruptly the sun has run away from the afternoon. It's that silence of a quiet November walk on the west coast in the air, though this Far East home of mine has barely slipped past the advent of Mid-Autumn Festival. Quiet, solo nights lie ahead. Maybe I'll cram them full of chatter and TV and words, and although I can find comfort inside the company of others, I keep my phone silent and ignore the footsteps which may patter outside my door. Night's here... my night, and it's one of those times where home is here while remaining thousands of miles beyond the horizon.

I've been here countless times before, as if standing at the door of my childhood home. But the sense of what awaits me is much different, both cold and friendly, warm and sombre, all at once. I can't decide what colour it evokes... maybe a blue of the wintry moonlit ocean, or of the impossible purple hue in the late stages of a prairie sunset. Maybe it's the translucent black of a clear, starry, moonless midnight. Whatever it is, it remains immense and, while foreboding, is not wholly unwelcome.

I don't bother standing against it, but curl into the corner of the sofa so it can envelope me. I know I'll wake in the morning, possibly in the rays of the sunrise. All that needs to be done is to wait patiently for the warm rise of the early sun in the eastern sky.

T

A very "Invictus" sort of mood for life

2010-09-14T04:01:00.001-07:00

I ravage watermelons and mangoes with messy, reckless abandon
and dream of dragonfruit and mangosteens.
I pursue sport and competition as if they were lifeblood
or the nectar of the gods.
I devour novels and poetry as more than mere subsistence
but as if they were the goal of all gluttony.
Robust red wine and seasoned meats and smoked cheeses
are no match for my appetite.
And I run...
I run as if my feet know nothing but constant motion
and without which they fail and wither and abandon me
just as I step out the door.

Split seconds...

2010-09-13T06:27:00.001-07:00

... where you make those decisions
that keep you kicking yourself
until the day winds down
and you're stuck there dreaming
about why, oh Georgia, why
and you just ain't missing
the times when you don't have to be
apologizing for your consistent indulgences
in foot-in-mouth disease

Next time just keep your thoughts
to yourself and your own damned cynicism
because you sure aren't makin' any friends
or collecting any bits of karma
strewn aside by those who float on by
on their good luck clouds

Just sleep it off because tomorrow is coming
and you know that by the time you're waking
the world's forgetting and you just need to
keep on going about sticking to your own
business

TM

Another true thing...

2010-09-05T05:02:00.001-07:00

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."

- Confucius

Backpedaling?

2010-09-01T03:03:00.001-07:00

I hesitated posting this a few months back (June-ish), mainly because I worried about the fact that the inspiration for it peruses the site from time to time. To my muse to this ramble, I'm sure you'll figure out who you are, but I hope it isn't one of those things that makes a girl dash for the door. I've said that sometimes my pen takes me places I don't always expect to go. But in the spirit of just hanging it all out there, here 'tis.

***

I've got a belly full of curry

And a brain chock-full of song
I know that I ain't home quite yet
But man, it won't be long

I'm living inside a dreamworld
Exploring far and wide
Where my feet will take me next
My mind just can't decide

The world is just too lustrous
In all it's wide expanse
I know I had to take two steps back
In order to advance

Now that I'm six steps further 'long
I think I've found my feet
It took some time, took too much time
But in the end, I'm finding me.

Now I'm thinking about beautiful eyes
Staring at me from the recent past
The tropics, I felt them calling me
And I'm wondering why I ever left

I met her in a whirlwind
And left her just the same
I'm land and sea and borders away
Wonderin' if she'll remember my name

I'll always recall that airport kiss
And the late-night full of song
I'm not sure if I'll see her again
But maybe it'll happen before too long

And maybe it'll never be
We've got lives to live until then
In the meantime I seek new eyes
New words, new dreams, new hands

There ain't no hand clasped to mine tonight
No breath dancing on my cheek
But I've got myself to keep me company
And memories that remain so easily

I'm not living in those rainy days
But I hope she remembers my name

T

Things you may not know and a world of maybe

2010-08-27T07:30:00.001-07:00

For recent stories about my life, check out the China blog (www.dimsumseeker.blogspot.com). For now, this is kinda the final poem from the chapter in my life that became closed at the end of July this summer. One final poem about her...

You used to hold poetry in your words
And in your eyes
Even though you never knew it
Or maybe you did but never shared that awareness
With me

And you also didn't know
That you became my muse
In all the struggles we faced
And in the turmoil I could feel
Living underneath your skin

You were my biggest challenge
And my biggest triumph
And for so many of those early months I considered the fact
That maybe I was reaching beyond my world

As Icarus, you were my sun
And maybe now I am simply plunging into the ocean
If the tale were true

But I'm starting to understand
That such tales are merely dreams of fiction
And not reality
No matter how much welled up inside me
You were not all there was

A gleaming star for a time, but not the only star in my skies
And maybe I dreamed you to be something else
When I looked at you
Which led to this inevitable fall
Or maybe I'm just getting caught up
In all my romantic tendencies
As an attempt to immortalize our story

The attempt remains fruitless
As we've proved that we were mortal
We lived. We died.

Maybe we embraced excitement and passion
Before we began to live in a banal world
And the appeal I held for you early on
Melted away as I embraced my inner pragmatist
Maybe you fell out of love with me long before I knew I lost you

I used to consider it my biggest failure
That I could not find and give you
What you truly sought
I was only able to provide
The things you asked for over the years
Thinking they'd be the balm to soothe
All your anxious unhappiness

Still, I knew that all these things
Wouldn't lead the way to happiness
Or satisfaction
Or simple contentment
But that didn't destroy my hope of maybe

Not at that moment, anyway

Since then there has been calm, then storm, then distance
Before resolute calm again
But the most recent torrents marooned us
On islands endlessly distant
So now we call across oceans in meager attempts
To salve what remains

What still exists in my mind is what I remember before
And it's those memories that I'll cling to
As a way of salvaging what we were.
You are not what's to come,
But you'll always be that piece of who I used to be.

T

Finding solid ground

2010-08-15T22:12:00.001-07:00

I spend a lot of time thinking about the most recent 14 chunks hours in my life, as if in these small clumps of motion and emotion, all truth is to be found in one's character.... where it goes right and where it goes wrong and sometimes just about the fact that it goes. These moments are almost always filled with uncertainty or overwhelming triumphs or curiosities or crushing defeats or questions or frustrations or endless attempts to justify and rationalize and normalize and ratify... to condense, to tease out, to pull it all apart and to piece it all back together.

I'm in that very circle right now, replaying and analyzing the confusion of the past day, and I keep coming up with more questions and keep finding myself confused. This is a pretty common result, and it often ends with me being frustrated and uncertain of myself. Often I come to realize later that I completely overthought everything and I can move on, but sometimes it seems so easy to get tangled in the "why" of such periods of overly-paranoid moments (or moments that stretch into hours and days).

I'm being aloof (as I often am) for a number of reasons. Part of it is to protect my self, but also to maintain anonymity for others. But I just hate these moments of confused self-doubt... they throw me into an introspective and sometimes semi-miserable state and it takes me a little while to snap out of the funk. So many things that simply felt strange took place last night, and there were so many things that just didn't seem to conform to what I was expecting that I've been inside my head all day. In two days, I'm sure these things will be far from my mind (or at least more so than now), but for now, my mind is a big tangle of questions and old urges to try to rectify and justify the confusion... but I know where that road ends and it's not a good place. So, here I stand, attempting to find some solid ground for myself... breaking old habits and figuring out if I have control over the confusion of these nights gone by. Until then, my feet keep moving and I keep running to clear my head.

T

Long days

2010-08-08T10:09:00.001-07:00

So, vacationing is a lot more work than I ever expect it to be. It's exhausting and taxing on an emotional sanity level. It's like there's always someone to see or something to do or some form of entertainment that you have to participate in so as to maximize the time. Every moment is filled with people and the off-switch only comes during sleep time, which is typically never long enough. I know I'm the only one to blame, but I am absolutely spent right now. Not even physically... just personally.

I realize that I shouldn't complain, but after 10 days in Vic, 2 in Vancouver, 3 in Kelowna, a week in Lethy followed by another family-filled week in Montana, I'm ready for a nap. A long nap. And maybe my own apartment again. I got pretty used to being social only 2 days a week. Now that I'm on a 4 week stretch of socializing and family time, I'm ready to melt away into nothing. I think I might be a hermit tonight. I have to find a way to save my sanity.

That being said, I've started the countdown to China. I have less than 2 weeks to go before my flight and I still have a bunch of stuff to do. I might just call it quits on a few of the more minor projects, but time will tell. More to come in coming days. For now, food and caffeine call.

T

When the skies are full of sound

2010-07-26T22:44:00.001-07:00

The tin chimneys are rattling around
Like pebbles in buckets on a riverbank
Held by a small boy's hand
And the sky is so full of sound
That you can nearly taste the invisibly bursting seams
As the thunder rips and attempts to tear
The sky limb from orange-hued limb

The rain attempts to wrap itself around
Every minuscule exposed surface
Including the flesh I can't seem to hide
And the wind refuses to accept a single path
Or assume a single direction
As if chaos is the end in itself

The dogs find their howls suffocated
By the crashing thunder and shaking walls
And candles flit and flicker near windows
As if the mere threat of the storm was enough
To scare them into being extinguished
And regardless...
They're too busy hiding in bathtubs to be heard
As if the rage-filled battles of the cosmos above
Are enough to encourage Earth's holocaust

It's seems so odd that a few miles beyond these clouds
Stars still find a way to shine through clear skies
And the moon can wane through it's July cycle
Just as last night when I could see a man fishing
In it's light.
And that outside this little strip of prairie
Another amazing site is taking place
Even a million sites
As if it's possible that fingertips are being discovered
For the first time
Or love is being sparked
Or a man is laid to rest

Moments fill our lives in such unique ways
Particularly when the skies are full of sound.

- T

Ends and beginnings

2010-07-18T21:57:00.001-07:00

It's odd how new things can begin before the old things have ended... like new lives that start before the previous ones have ceased. It's like I'm caught in this strange middle ground of anxious apprehension leading up to my trip back to the Valley.

It's been nearly two years since I've stepped foot in the valley where I used to live. After walking away in hopes of being able to return, I've never gone back. I tried, I hoped, I prayed and was miserable about it for a long time. But the "No Entry" sign remained on the door to that former life. I've found new doors and have started to forget what that old home was like. But now that I'm returning to the doorstep, I'm not sure what to expect.

I haven't looked into her eyes in these two years. We've barely spoken. Many of the words that have crossed the abyss of e-land between us have held bitter poison and barbed tips. They were our weapons, as if our only way to stop hurting was to inflict more pain on the other. We fought over things I promised myself never to fight about. In retrospect, it was never about the things... but always about what was never resolved and about all the heartache I felt when she kept telling me, in a roundabout way, that she simply didn't want me anymore.

This is my past. This is me. This scar is bigger although more invisible than the one above my eye that came from my stitches from when I was 5, or the one running across a small piece of my gut as doctors tore out an evil organ from my belly. I think of the "scar" in Lord of the Flies... how it might grow over after a while, but it will always exist somehow. I met a girl who told me that this trial of the past few years is as much me as the books I've read or the family I've loved. But don't we all want to hide our scars? How do we wear them like jewels? Or a headdress? Or a medal of valour?

I've become so happy in my decisions over the past year, but as our meeting looms (to finalize our end), I just don't know what I'm going to feel...relief? Anxiety? Remorse? Jealousy? Hatred?

Love?

The only thing I hope is that this last year has made me strong... strong enough to deal with whatever will course through my veins on my arrival. After a coffee date with a friend today, I realized how much it has been on my mind... it came out in a spewing remembrance of all that went on and all the wounds that were caused and all the frustration I felt. And until I finished with the ranting purge, I realized I was nearly out of breath, panting, wondering where it all came from.

All that remains is the actual event. I wonder, I dream, and I wait. Let come what may. What will happen, will be. And so.

To be

2010-07-16T07:46:00.001-07:00

I want to be secret smiles
And longing glances
I want to be intrigue
And question marks
I want to be your curiosity
That may never provide you with any answers
I want to be the topic of raving conversation
And maybe I want to indulge my ego
But not just to make the pain go away
Not anymore

Those injuries have scarred over
And although they'll always remain
They're mere battle wounds from times past
Marks that have strengthened my resolve
To find all the adventure
And mischief
And jaw-dropping experiences
I can handle
In this life that is full of
Things to come
And things to be

I want to be outrageous
And get ridiculous
And be just a slight bit shameless
I want to fill a billion eyes
With my happiness
And plant my foot on rocks tiptoeing
Towards the heavens
I want to have a list
With bright, red slashes
Through all the things "to do"
And take that same pen
And scribble DONE
In obnoxious block lettering
Across each item

You know...
For impact

So many things remain of what's to be
And I want to be them all.

Lag

2010-07-12T08:32:00.000-07:00

I've been up since before 5am as my body/brain adjust to the trip across the Pacific. I'm also sans-voice after picking up a bug on either the night bus back to Kunming or one of the many flights I've been on in the past 10 days. And if you know me at all, you know that my particular personality doesn't do so well without a voice. And now that I'm back home, all I want to do is see people and visit. But I'm mute. So that makes it difficult.

I'm home, but not "home", per se. I'm staying with relatives back on the west coast of Canada, and although the city is just as comforting as ever, I no longer have my own place and will be couch-hopping for the next 6 weeks. I'm also not one who's good at being fussed over. And my relatives? They love to fuss. It's fun and endearing, but I never know how to act... I know they're just looking to take care of me, especially with my cough and lack of functional vocal output. But it's not a role I'm particularly strong in. Regardless, it's nice to be back.

It's strange. The homecoming. Like I'm in between homes and cultures. One of my new friends who I met in Yunnan discussed this on her blog before... the living in between cultures. Now, I know I'm not experiencing the phenomenon to that extent, but I do feel slightly homeless. Staying with relatives, friends, family. But never just on my own. No place that I can own and have to myself (even though I'm at my aunt's place right now and they're at work). It's just not the same. But that's okay... I'm still just happy to be able to see everyone.

This summer is going to be full of car trips and friends and family and (I hope) lots of coffee and beer and running and food. I was awake by about 4:15am yesterday morning (again, the jetlag), so I strapped on my shoes first thing in the morn and popped out for about 40 minutes in the quiet of the sunrise which was just starting to shine over the city. What an amazing feeling. The air was simply delicious (something I've never really noticed before, even if it has been sweet or delightful), and although I feel pretty out of shape, it was amazing to get out there to enjoy the morning. It almost makes me understand while people go out at that ridiculously early hour. The mountains across the water were towering and bright, the streets were silent, and the beach was so peaceful. I saw more deer than people, and even though I was cramping up and struggling at times, it was amazing to get out there.

The end of the time in China was so much fun. Yunnan was unbelievable and met some absolutely unforgettable people. I'm already trying to figure out if I can make it back again next year. I'd love to do more hiking and adventuring through the areas around Tiger Leaping and Shangrila, but time will tell if it happens for next year. Maybe a 3rd year will have to happen. Who knows? I've officially decided that it's pretty exciting that I only know what my life will look like for one more year... the unknown beyond that is just a thrilling collection of potential.

For now, though, I need to get the rest of my Yunnan stories written and maybe add some pictures to the blog. Make sure you touch base with me if you're in western Canada and want to hang. Much love from the democratic side of the Pacific.

T

Remembering

2010-06-07T19:24:00.001-07:00

It's hard to imagine, but it's been three years since it happened.

I was in the later stages of my practicum. I was swamped with work and stress while looking forward to the end of my year. I had even started to reconsider my choice of entering this profession (as I've mentioned from time to time). I think it was a Sunday night while I was at home grading papers. My principal called me. I thought this was strange, since he and I had never spoken over the phone. He told me to sit down. That's something that doesn't happen in real life. Or, I guess it does. I heard words like, "unexpected" and "tragedy", but as I sat there frozen in my chair, K just looked at me trying to figure out what was wrong. I'm not one to be at a loss for words. All I could say was, "Oh my god" and, "Thanks for letting me know." Before that, I had never experienced such a profound sense of paralysis.

It didn't really hit me until the next morning when I walked into the school. I saw the faces of a few kids and some hadn't even heard. They looked at me the same way they always looked at me, but they seemed different to me. Something had changed. The realization of their mortality, maybe. Or maybe about the secret, sad lives they lead (suicide was suspected but never confirmed). Or maybe they just seemed more like kids than they ever had before. And they were kids that, even in all my frustration and anger and annoyance at their work ethic or incomplete assignments, were kids that I cared about.

I sat in my office all morning, and couldn't bring myself to go into the hallways. I kept thinking that as long as I didn't have to see anyone, that I would hold myself together. Then Dee, one of my practicum supervisors, came into the office. And I lost it. I couldn't even imagine how I could see the kids after that and not be in pieces. Every time I glanced out my office window into the hallways, I thought about every one of the kids in my classes and in the hallways and that I coached and that I barely knew who still said hi to me in the hallways.

The next few days were a blur or just trying to nod and smile my way through the few classes I had and through the halls and classes of the school.

I have all this on my mind because I recently found out that a student from a Kelowna school was murdered by another student late last week. At first, I didn't know what happened, and since I have two cousins who attend the school, I found myself struggling to breathe and I was panicking. I couldn't imagine if it was one of them. I found out when I was speaking to a teacher-friend who works at the school and who taught the victim last semester... she was pretty upset and was looking for someone to talk to, so I happily obliged. Luckily, she was understanding of my questions and told me who it was and what happened. And although I found a great sense of relief in learning that it wasn't one of my cousins, the sad reality of one child killing another made me mourn the nature of our lives. And my mind flashed back to KL (my former student). And to all of my students now who make me smile and drive me crazy and make me wonder about my place in this profession and in the world.

T

Buoyed

2010-05-31T07:47:00.002-07:00

I often wonder about moments and times in our life when we become ready for, well, whatever it is that stands in front of us. Big decisions, personal challenges, life paths... I've watched in the lives of my family, my friends, and as many of you know, myself. I've never been apologetic about the major decisions I've made in my life. They have made me who I've become, and they've all helped mold me into the person whose fingers tap away. I've had moments where the initial sensation of regret creeps into my mind, but with a little bit of time and reflection I come to understand the role of these decisions in my life.

There have been moments (more than I can count, really) when I can't see beyond the tunnel as life pushes me into a place where I can't turn down the opportunity that sits in front of me. I'm sitting in my seaside apartment in a small summer holiday area outlying a peninsular Chinese city as May rolls into June, which explains enough in itself. Not so long ago, I was wrestling with all the misery lingering from losing the one I committed to nearly five years ago. And I can't deny that there aren't still days when I mourn that loss... but I don't regret my decision to leave or to come here. In fact, I couldn't (and still don't) acknowledge that there was another reasonable decision to be made. If I would've tried to wait any longer, I would've given away every remaining piece of me. And I sit here today as the spring clouds roll in over the coastal shores knowing that I've made it through the tunnel.

I'm finding myself reflective because of a man I'm lucky to have as a friend. We were speaking online tonight from across a continent as he makes his way through Europe for a trip with some of his amigos. Over this past year, he's been a phenomenal source of solace and good advice for me. He went through a hard breakup a few years ago and made it out with a new perspective, and passed on what he learned in every way he could to help keep me grounded and positive. And after speaking to him earlier and getting an email from him, I realized that his perspective has changed more in the last year than I could ever imagine. For a long time, he avoided the steps he's now taking... maybe because of fear, or uncertainty, or another phenomenon that made him balk. And the more I think about it, it just seemed like it wasn't his time. And now it is. And I don't think I've ever been so happy for anyone in my life.

There were a couple of years after high school and after we'd both moved away from home that I wasn't sure that our friendship could weather the years and distance and changing lives. We had started to become extremely different and the conversations that came so naturally in our closer days seemed to be a lot more forced. Our common experiences were slowly fading. Now, though, even though we're leading radically different lives, we're still close. And through him and especially through his decision tonight, I finding my own hopes and wishes becoming real, and it's buoying me in ways I can't even explain.

The decision he made today will hopefully be one that he'll live to tell his great-grandchildren about. Hell, I'll tell mine if he doesn't. Good on ya, SP. Making memories that'll last a lifetime.

T

A part

2010-05-27T07:47:00.001-07:00

I hear words and melody and I think to myself
I want to be a part of the song I hear playing
While I'm looking at all you've created
In this world-non-world
Of perfect images

I see flashes captured and the instances boxed
And I want to be the eyes that stare out
From behind the framed glass
On your wall
Only so as to connect with all those
Passing glances from other's eyes
That seek meaning
In still moments

Maybe you'll find that I'm the sign

That you pass by on the roads ahead
When you're looking for somewhere to turn
Toward a place you can curl up in
And find the calm you seek

Could it be that you may
Let my breath be the breath that causes your skin
To shiver in the summer night's heat
As sweat beads on your neck
And slowly disappears into the linen
On which you breathe and sleep and dream

One day, it may be possible
You'll find my words
Are your words
And your love
Is our love

Maybe one day we'll speak
I'll meet you
Maybe one day

TM

Sharing some songs stuck in my head

2010-05-17T06:36:00.001-07:00

For the first time since living in China, the rain is pattering at my window and has been all day. The smell of the water sneaks in my door, seeps through the walls and makes me think about all those quiet, soggy, book-filled days of walking through the coastal streets that I'm excited to get back to... makes me recall all the words I've abandoned through the years, like the rain is a graveyard for discarded thoughts and resentment. Something about the rain takes it all away... maybe the old metaphors and cliches of life made new and the world being refreshed. Whatever the case, I love the comfort I'm in, turning away offers of umbrellas so I can feel the drops on my pate and my brow in the short distance to my apartment. My hometown can keep the snow, but let me have the rain.

I got my mitts on a whole pile of Dave Matthews songs lately, and a few have been inside my mind for days. Others are new tastes that I unexpectedly stumbled upon or songs that I don't think I'll ever get out of my head because of their power/beauty. Click on the titles and enjoy...

Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds - Eh Hee

Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds - Down by the River

Rusted Root - Send me on My Way

Grace Potter and the Nocturnals - Nothing but the Water Part 1

Carol Woods and Timothy T. Mitchum - Let it Be (from the Across the Universe soundtrack)

Friday night nonsense

2010-05-14T07:17:00.001-07:00

I'm daydreaming, escaping these walls of mine
Mind slipping to silent dreams
Of hands clutching coffee cups under cover of a car's roof
Beside coastal waters as waves crash overhead.
We quietly clasp each other's hands, keeping close and warm,
Listening to the world speak in windswept whispers
And water-flooded shouts where we can feel alone
Yet endlessly and eternally not alone.

I'm recklessly romantic in these mindful rendezvous'
As I ignore fact and embrace these fanciful fictions
Found inside my brain.

TM

Recent, unfinished thoughts

2010-05-13T18:52:00.001-07:00

I've always lived inside the philosophy that life (and love) needs to be electric... charged like static sparks between fingers or live wires whipping erratically between telephone poles after being snapped in a storm... unpredictable and alive. I have reflected on my dating habits prior to marriage and know that none of the girls I dated seemed to last more than a few months. They had the fire and the initial spark, but something began to fade after a few months. There was one instance when the electricity didn't fade, but it was snuffed out.

When I think about moving on in my life, I think about the pursuit of this high I used to know... the charge of passion and electricity that I used to feel... how good and alive it felt, and how I needed it like cocaine. Every ounce of me pursued it, and even when it led me to the self-destructive I still longed for it and craved it and hated it for escaping my grasp. It wasn't simply physical, but something more all-encompassing. It was the pursuit and the pursued, and it eluded me.

********

It's another morning in paradise
Not sure if I'm going to to leave my bed
All this sun streaming in the window
It's doing nothing to change my mind

All I know these days is that these days it's only
The darkness of an empty apartment
Waking up to an empty mailbox
And to the vacant pillow beside my head

Stretch those arms out my way
I'll only wait for a little while
I can't quite reach your fingers
My breath can only last so long

In my mind are memories of crisp, spring nights
Where the night is clear and the stars are out
I'm falling asleep to candle light
With the faint hum of jazz in my ears

Now the laughter I hear is outside the window
Twenty floors down where love lives now
This laughter lives in frameless pictures
That have left the walls of my life behind.

*******

Another bout of restless introspection
Is following me to bed
As if it conspires to create
My newly insomniatic head.

Blue lights buzzing,
Memory fuzzing
Over all the details
That weren't worth remembering

*******

I'm a million words swimming in a stormy head
Not certain of up or down
Or if there's anything particularly interesting
Any which way or long way 'round

I sometimes like to kid myself
I'm an anomaly like the rest of the world
I'm an intriguing glance across a room
As everything tightly wound becomes unfurled

I'm overused rhyme schemes
In overused thought streams
I'm a mystery

I'm baffling and inspiring
But more maddening
Than anything
You cast glances, they're loving
While I remain

TM

Early morning sensory stimulus and a million beginnings

2010-05-12T19:06:00.002-07:00

The smell of smoked duck neck is penetrating the air in our English office. The Chinese ESL teachers love this as a morning snack, and I have to admit that I can't bring myself to try it at 9:00am. It doesn't quite go with my sweet muesli/fruit/yogurt/coffee breakfasts or my freshly brushed, pepperminty teeth.

Lately I've been starting a number of different posts, full of lofty poetic ambition and life-fulfilling insight. Only to get a stanza or two into the writing before abandoning the effort in an inability to connect with what I want to say or how I'm feeling. I keep feeling like I can't find any stable ground right now, and every time I settle into some sort of emotional mind-state, something arises to rip that sturdy platform from under me. At school, I'm having my classes changed and rearranged on a daily basis. I'm struggling to sort out exactly what to teach the kids as they have so little time remaining in the semester/year, and I keep trying to figure out what the priorities need to be in order to maximize the effectiveness of my classes. This hasn't exactly been a fruitful venture.

Then, after getting a preliminary teaching schedule for next year from my friends at the high school, I find out that it's turned into the undesirable dog's breakfast of classes... more or less a mix of stuff that no one wants to teach. Now I'm hoping for this state of change to keep going, as the classes have almost zero appeal.

I'm also still reeling from all the anger and frustration felt with the recent splitting up of stuff and the signing of paperwork as K and I attempt to finalize everything. Maybe we'll never be able to forgive each other or get past the recent bitter exchanges, but I just really want that. I'm still also seeking some final closure and feel like I want the chance to really talk about everything, but it seems
impossible right now. And maybe it will remain that way. I don't know. All I know is that I don't want to feel like 9 years are going up in a smoky fire of resentment. But it seems impossible to bridge the gap at this point. I've never been patient when I feel the need to fix/resolve things, and the anxiety relating to making an attempt to just bury our metaphorical hatchet... but it seems like we're both guarding the weapon with our lives, as if by maintaining our grip on the hostility, we're maintaining some sort of dignity. But all it has been doing is destroying that very thing.

The past few weeks haven't been unpleasant... they've just been unsettled. While on vacation last week, I spent some quality time with a few books and I thought a lot about the fact that I'd love to dedicate more time to that. And maybe about going back to school in the not-so-distant future. Who knows. I also keep thinking about starting over again with new people in my life, new women in my life... I've tried to avoid the thoughts but they keep creeping into my mind. Maybe because I just keep thinking about the fact that I haven't really been able to share my life with anyone recently, from vacations to personal triumphs to the regular, daily struggles. And I
can't really burden people over and over with such expectations, especially when they have their own lives to lead.

That's probably the most obvious and real thing I've noticed since K and I separated... all the people in my life that I used to be so close to are now so involved in their lives and communities that I feel like a satellite now. This is due to, in large part, to my own decisions. But it gets a little lonely because of such decisions.

T

Cusps

2010-05-03T21:22:00.001-07:00

I've escaped my slightly prison-like accommodations in Daheishi for the week and am enjoying the warm, overcast humidity of Xi'an in central China. It's the May Day holiday week, and I'm off school until Sunday. Currently, I'm sitting in my hostel, watching the local kittens jump and play at my feet as I think about where I'm going to get my next cup of coffee.

My first few days here haven't been particularly exciting... I've been taking it easy and definitely slept in this morning in order to recapture some of the sleep debt that I've built up over previous weeks. Even my first night here, I tossed and turned and reacted to all the noise in the nearby courtyard and only managed to get about 4 or 5 hours of rest. But, with the purchase of ear plugs yesterday (which came with a delightful Winnie-The-Pooh eye mask to keep that pesky light out), I was able to assume a more zombie-like state last night in my small dorm. It also helped that there was only one other person in my room and he's extremely quiet.

So much is awaiting me in coming weeks... there's only another 7 weeks of teaching once I get back to Dalian, and then (hopefully) a 10 day trip to Yunnan before my stressful/busy/fun-filled summer in Canada, then another year of teaching and adventure in China. I'm on the verge of finishing my first year away from Canada while also being close to becoming a legally-single man again. So many things to think about... finding apartments, sorting out who I can see and when I can see them when I return, trying to figure out how I'm going to see everyone, try to find some civil ground between K and I.... just so many things.

The prospect is pretty daunting. Realistically I've been going solo for more than a year now (been away from Kelowna for nearly 2 years), but there's something particularly final about the signing of the paperwork and making it legal. It's been a pretty miserable past few weeks, dealing with embittered emails and a combined inability to understand each other and to let sleeping dogs lie. I think both of us are just frustrated and maybe we're both refusing to see the other's perspective. I don't actually know where the root problem lies, but I'm pretty sure that is stems from the unresolved feelings from the beginning of the separation. But now that we're really going our separate ways, is there any reason to sort it out? I want to say there is, but the realist in me is suspicious.

For now, though, I'm off to make something of my day...

Sharing

2010-04-26T06:50:00.001-07:00

So, this is unrelated to anything that I typically write, but I thought I'd share.

Glee.

It's funny. And entertaining. And I may have watched all of this season in the past 10 days. And I'm probably going to watch the rest of the episodes as they come out. So. Judge as you wish. Or just share your love. Whatever you want.

The other days

2010-04-23T07:23:00.001-07:00

It's early on your side of the world
But it's not like I'm keeping track
Anymore
Not because of you, anyway...

Today's one of those other days
Where I leave you behind and find
Another little way to say goodbye
Another moment where the scissors
Go to work, cutting you away and shaping
What's left of everything that was
Into another cast off memory

This is one of the other days
Where I'm looking elsewhere
To another pair of beautiful eyes
Ones that will find a way to love me
And follow me on another one of my adventures
Hands that'll find me in the darkness
And hold on to make sure I'm not going anywhere
A silent breath beside me to let me know
That there ain't nothing left between us.

This is just another day
Where I'm letting you go again
And again and again
And again.

I've never been ready
But baby, the ready's all in the doing
So I guess tonight says it all
In another little goodbye.
I know this isn't the last one
But one day it will be
Until then
Until then
I guess that says it all
Until then.

In repair...

2010-04-22T00:53:00.001-07:00

"I'm in repair...
I'm not together
But I'll get there"

- J. Mayer, "In Repair"

The words in my head, as they stream through metaphors like spring waterfalls through canyons

2010-04-19T06:47:00.001-07:00

I'm living in a blue world tonight
But it's not because I'm pining away
These unnatural lights buzzing overhead
Are causing me to go out of my mind
I need a little warmth
A bit of sunshine
Something that will help me feel
That the world is fine, so fine
I'm scratching lines into the plaster
Covering the concrete wall above my headboard
Because I'm counting down all the days
That lie in front of me before I can find
Just another place to lay my head
And fill my eyes with something
New... always looking for something shiny
And still glistening in all it's cellophane
The excitement lies in that anticipation
And the hope that lives inside
The crinkle of the plastic before it's torn to reveal
The reality of what lives within
Sometimes it's easy to see that what we pursue
Is not what lies inside the shrink-wrap
But the idea of the shrink-wrap itself
Something untapped
Undiscovered and untainted by everything
And anything that could spoil the window dressed
Perfection.

T

The finalizing of my current life (and the creating of the new one)

2010-04-16T04:05:00.000-07:00

My recent activities read like a slightly morose checklist...

In the past week, I have:

- Applied for non-residency from Canada
- Filed taxes as a burgeoning non-resident
- Changed the beneficiary on my life insurance
- Made changes to tax assessments from last year
- Decided on the final split of marital assets via email
- Signed the first set of divorce papers

Things I will do in the next week which are FAR less morose:

- Enjoy drinks with friends
- Coach (and judge) students for a regional speech comp
- Catch up on marking
- Rid myself of my hockey hair
- Book hostels for my trip to Xi'an
- Make plans for my adventure to Yunan in July
- Organize my summer trip to see friends back in Janada!
- Check out apartments for life in a much nicer/bigger city
- Contemplate next year's winter holidays (and my big raise)
- Introspectively wonder what life will look like in 2 years time
- Hopefully find time to sleep

As always, I seek balance...

Transitions

2010-04-12T04:29:00.001-07:00

I know about all that I'm not looking for
I'm still seeking, hoping to find
Everything I wasn't sure about
Remains in the recesses of my mind

I knew you for a moment
Or maybe for a week
You found me when I had just stopped stumbling
But I hadn't learned to speak

Well baby, I'm finding my voice now
I'm figuring a way to shout
The fog is fading, my legs are shaking
And I know I'm nearly out, out, out.

I'm living as a long-distance mystery,
You remain in the shadowed dark
We knew each other for a few short seconds
Before our lives made us depart

It's just the unknown in front of us
Never been a "you and me"
As the path winds on in the distance
I journey on with a memory

T

Easy

2010-04-09T02:12:00.002-07:00

I don't know what I expected, or how I got caught up in all of this. I always said that I was never attached to these material things and that I'd never be that guy who needs to take such things with him if/when we had to say goodbye. I guess I'm holding on and I'm fighting back and I'm getting upset because I'm clinging to the possibility of change and of acknowledgement of everything that's gone on within the realm of of dividing up all the things we collected and shared and cherished while we still lived a common life. I'm seeking refuge from the heartbreak and all those old feelings of frustration by expecting that I'd finally have no issues getting what I want or ask for, even if it's simply a bunch of replaceable... stuff. I feel like I've received nothing of what I wanted for a long time, and now, when that possibility seemed to stare me in the face, I'm disappointed again. So I'm saying hurtful things and allowing myself to be openly angry because I mourn the fact that we're at this point.

I'd talked briefly to a good friend about my frustrations, and he asked if I'd been able to rise above it all. The truth is, I haven't been able to. Where I was feeling so much positivity just a few weeks ago with our communications, things have definitely degraded. I feel like I'm giving up.

I hope this doesn't imply that I have lingering hopes about getting back together or anything like that... I'm satisfied with my decision and I'm excited about the events from the past year and the upcoming potential in my life. But I just thought that we'd finally come to a point where we could forget about it all or at least acknowledge the misery and move past it. But then it happened... the dividing of the possessions began and we went right back into the black hole of disagreement, accusation and words said in frustration and anger. Maybe she's being the bigger person in our communications. And maybe I'm the guilty one who's been the source of the anger. Maybe I should just stop caring. But after having the sense that I've been walked on for the past few years, I can't simply pull myself out of it. I'm in the middle of the muck. Luckily, I think that we're just gonna sign a ridiculous (but sadly necessary) piece of paper saying "This is mine and this is yours and by providing our signatures our lives will no longer intersect". I guess it's time. Just so sad that something like love can devolve so tragically into this.

Okay... no more of this self-pity party. In other news, I'm running again, I have my job for the fall that I've wanted, I'm going to be able to pay off a big chunk of my loans next year and I've got a world full of adventures ahead. Sometimes I just lose focus of the big picture when I'm wallowing in the rubbish. Brighter days are ahead.

T

In short

2010-04-04T17:10:00.001-07:00

It's all music in the background
And papers to be signed
Envelopes lie unsealed
As my will remains resigned
Will the timer on the stove
Remind me what I'm trying to find
Or will the sun streaming in the window
Make me blind, blind, blind

Poem after the news

2010-03-29T05:25:00.002-07:00

Poem after reading the news

How am I supposed to sleep at night
When the streets are running red
And the smile upon your face
Does nothing to hide the tears they shed?

When teachers are stabbing children
And students abuse themselves
The parents are staying silent
Until the lie's too hard to sell.

How much will your silence cost you?
Is it more than a sack of coins?
Is it worth more than the innocence
Of your little girl or your boy?

I'm closing all my blinds tonight
Because the shame's too much to bear.
How do we face such a tragic problem
When responsibility has the density of air?

** I just came across this on my computer. I wrote it shortly after moving here and I read about a teacher in central China who stabbed on of her students, and another was being charged with abuse. Also, there was a student who beat a student so bad that she was sent to the hospital... in a middle school. Apparently the teacher-student abuse had happened a number of times at the schools and although complaints were made, the abusive teacher didn't get reprimanded until the abuse made the papers. Such misery and sadness piled on kids all over the world...

T

Life in perspective (if only for moments)

2010-03-25T05:13:00.001-07:00

The March night has fallen quiet outside my window. I have a belly full of food, and my weary legs and head leave me with the feeling that I've worked hard today (though my work remains to be done, even at 8pm). My mind has been yanked and pulled in a million different directions. In one moment, I'm stressed about being up to my ears in grade 9 papers. In another, I'm trying to understand why I have yet to hear about my application for the job I applied for. In still another, I'm wondering what kind of active resolution tactic I can try with a student who continues to challenge my patience (and sanity). But all of these things are merely flesh wounds... scrapes and bumps along this sometimes rocky road of teaching and life. They likely won't leave a mark beyond the next few days. "My head is bloody, but unbowed..."

Even I sit here, dreading my pile of marking that awaits my red pen, I can sense the subtle sweetness in my life. I'm healthy, alive, and lucky to be surrounded by wonderful people. I have opportunities that are mere dreams to others. I live a life that is uncertain but brims with possibility.

This all comes out of a story I just read about through my friend Ciboulette. Her friend Steph has been facing some serious life challenges with her young daughter who will likely/definitely be diagnosed with some form of cancer in the next few days. Her daughter is five months old, and cute as a button. She is (along with her family) remaining hopeful and positive in the face of what I can only imagine to be heart-crushing anxiety. Reading this sort of story makes my problems shrink into oblivion, and her strength makes me recall a million different words of hope and optimism, from Dr. Seuss to Emily Dickinson to William Ernest Henley. I can only hope that she finds such words too, along with the support of those around her.

Why is it that the confrontation or experience of fear, pain, sadness and anxiety are the things that can make us feel the most real and make us the most reflective?

A moment living in perspective. Good luck with everything, Steph and Co.

Adrenaline junk and a name that lives in the sky

2010-03-19T18:32:00.003-07:00

I was having a conversation with my closest friend from high school the other day. We're both in places of transit or uncertainty. He's just received his medical school placement (although a great city, definitely not his first choice), and I was discussing my uncertainty about what my life will look like in 6 months. I joked around about being slightly bipolar, even though I was completely manipulating the surface understanding of the word to make a point. I started thinking out loud and may have come to the conclusion that I pursue intense experiences in whatever form they take. I love spicy food, robust red wine, beer as black as death, rich coffee, intense curries, long hikes, rock climbing, running, challenging novels, music with lyrics that will move me in my emotions, and relationships where my heart will be filled to the point of exploding and broken like fine china on a ceramic floor. I like to wrestle out my thoughts into words on a page and will refuse to back down from an argument that I feel excited about or a topic I am familiar with. I defend ideas that I don't necessarily believe in and sometime the things I myself ridicule. I love the devil's advocate when challenged. I go out of my mind when the students refuse to embrace ideas and when people around me hide under a thin veil of ignorance. SP is the same way, except he's much more of the adventure junkie and seeks the experiences in a much more motivated fashion. When these opportunities arise, I jump on them, but when they're absent, I become sloth-like. It's like I need to be kicked in the solar plexus to act. I only put a small amount of effort into the less intense facets of my life, but when the passion rises up in me I feel that sense of being alive. This could explain a lot of things. Maybe it can help me be more aware and more in control of my laziness. We'll see.

These traits have lived within me for years. When I was in middle/high school, I challenged any ideas that felt incongruent with my own thoughts. I obsessed over rock music lyrics that would speak to me in order to find meaning. I started going on a few websites that had religious discussion forums and spent endless hours attempting to wrap my own hands around my personal faith while crushing all other ideas that did not line up with my ideas about rationality and legitimacy. I filled notebooks with poetry and lyrics and quotes from people I admired or just thought brilliant. I argued with my parents endlessly, particularly my father, for no other reason than I felt like I needed to defend and assert and be myself. I hated the feeling of my "black sheep" status, but I've long since embraced it. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be doing all the things I've done in my life, from Europe to the Left Coast, to today, as I sit in front of my apartment window in rural China as the spring rains finally begin to fall. I'm perfectly content being the weird kid in the family, even if that's begun to fade in my adulthood.

When I was 17, I was a member of my high school's student council, and was chosen to be Pres in my senior year. One of the perks to this title (only voted on amongst the other members... I would've been annihilated if the vote went out among the general student population) was that I was able to attend a bunch of student leadership conferences around southern Alberta. Most were local, but one was for a full week during the summer in Waterton. This still strikes me as a pretty intensely formative experience, and is probably the first legitimate time I fell in love. The girl who became the apple of my eye was from a town about 4 hours north of me, and even though we both had some really intense feelings over the years after not seeing each other for ages, we never dated and never even lived in the same city. She actually moved to my hometown at one point... the same year I moved out to the coast. Fate works in funny ways. We still keep in touch, but after my own marriage and hers (and now with her new little baby), our lives are much different. But we both pursued the same career and maintain a lot of our old, idealistic passions and ideas.

One of her friends from the same town also attended, and we got along famously. To this day, he remains one of the friends I never see but would still trust with absolutely anything and everything.

At this same leadership camp, there were a number of international students attending... some from South America, some from Europe, a few from Japan and a few from the US. One guy, Phillip, was from Slovakia. He was an absolute riot, and made our group laugh endlessly. He coined the term "1cm water" (you'll have to email me for a full explanation) when going creek-crawling up a small stream near our campsite, and was always happy to show off his short-shorts in the sunshine. We were talking one day and I'd mentioned that my father's family was Slovenian, so he asked me about my last name. I told him. A big smile came across his face as he explained to me that my last name in Slovak means "cloud". Since then, I've loved sharing that story. And I love the meanings behind names. My first name has both Irish, Celtic and Welsh roots. The Welsh meaning is "Big Village", but the Celtic/Irish meaning is "Prudent" or "Wise". I can only hope that "wise" is something that I can embrace as days go on. So, if you combine these two it becomes "Wise cloud" or "Prudent Cloud". If it was "Big village cloud", I guess my mom wouldn't be surprised, knowing her references to Badluck Schleprock (check out wikipedia for the entry about this Flintstones character). Is this a self-fulfilling prophecy? I love my communities and moved to the coast to live in the rain. And I've wanted a tattoo meaning "cloud" for quite sometime. Hmmmm...

Catalogues

2010-03-15T18:48:00.002-07:00

I'm looking for a little inspiration
Is there a catalogue I can peruse?
I'm searching for something a little different
Maybe something with a view.

I've checked out a number of websites
But nothing has fit just right
I haven't quite found the perfect colour
Maybe I'll look again another night.

"Yes, hi there. Customer service?
I'm wondering if you can help me out.
I'm in search of a new-fangled something
That will take away this pout."

"I'm sorry sir, but the item you're looking for
Is freshly out of stock.
You might want to check our competitors
But the poor quality might come as a shock.

"Maybe you can find something
At a local market or store.
Please know that these things are in high demand
And anything in good condition might cost a little more."

"Thanks for your time, I'll keep checking around.
Goodbye," I said as I put down the phone.
I think I'll just check with the neighbours up the road
Maybe if they know of something they'll consider a loan.

In the meantime I'll keep the shades closed tight.
There's no need to broadcast my desperate need.
I'll go knocking when they return from work
Maybe then I'll be able to plant my garden's seeds.

TM

Where to place my feet?

2010-03-14T03:24:00.001-07:00

The weather is slowly starting to provide glimpses of spring time. The wind still whistles in through my poorly sealed windows in the night, and I'm still doing everything possible to warm up my hands in our frosty office at the school. But good omens are upon the winds. As I walked down JinmaLu in Kaifaqu today, I heard a rustling in some trees and the cheerful chirping of some birds who were obviously longing to break out of their winter funk. The ice on the BoHai Sea has melted and departed from the beaches and bays around Daheishi. As I walked around Kaifaqu today, I noticed that I had forgotten to wear my long-johns under my jeans (a first, since probably early December), but I wasn't cold or even slightly uncomfortable. Just the other day I was telling people that I felt like Spring was upon us... they told me to get a grip and stick my head out the window to see if this was true. But now, my friends... I'm happy to say I told them so.

I realize that by saying this, I'm likely going to be responsible for causing the biggest spring cold-snap China's ever seen. But, I'm willing to assume that this is all just the power of positive thinking. Perpetually self-critical but outwardly optimistic. I think my running shoes are going to get some quality time on the asphalt in coming weeks.

Living out here has been a strange experience, where I have a foot in two different communities but don't real feel like a part of either. Every Monday to Friday, I assume my position at the front of my classroom and attempt to instill a bit of learning into the minds of my middle school kids. I live on campus, I eat lunch at the cafeteria, and play badminton with some of the students periodically. I go for dinner with some of the teachers, and go running up the highway near the school when the weather permits. But I still don't have a thing on my walls... and I feel like I'm perpetually living in wait. I've kept trying to get positions over at the high school throughout the year, and I had a lot of hope that our school would actually change locations before the end of the school year. Why get settled when you're just going to move soon anyways, right? So even though I live here, it has never quite felt like home.

Then every weekend, I run off to Kaifaqu to spend the weekends with the Seaths. They're the most gracious people on the planet to let me crash on their couch every weekend for 8 or 9 months. That's real friendship. I'm sure they're ready to tell me to get my own place, but they haven't said so yet. I've befriended a tonne of people from the high school, but it often remains in the context of being Darren and Mandy's friend. Not always, but definitely sometimes. And since I have to head back out here every Sunday afternoon and I don't have my own place in Kaifaqu, my flexibility is pretty limited to do and go where I want if I was to have my own plans. I desperately want to be a member of that community, but I am limited in that ability. And even though I am a part of things I feel as though I want to be a more independent part of it. But I can't. It's kinda frustrating. Even though I've hung out with and made plans with people from the high school here and there, they all have their lives and their activities and their events planned out. Fitting me in seems like a big challenge. And maybe since they only ever see me a handful of times a month, it's more work than anything. I keep a foot in that world regardless (I think I'd go bananas out here otherwise), but I still can't really be a full-fledged member. It's like being a constant acquaintance but little more. It's like that way with travelling... you meet someone, you get on really well with them, and then you leave. You may keep in touch for a while, but most times it just fades away. All that effort for a likely reality that you'll never see each other again. Feels that way out here.

And now that I think of it, I'm living in China. So I guess I inhabit three estranged communities.

Now that the Ides of March are upon us and everyone's starting to talk about home. The Seaths are flying out at the start of July as D has his Masters program. A few of the other awesome people I've met here are leaving to move back to Canada after being here for a few years. The returning teachers are swooping down on the soon-to-be-vacated apartments like vultures on a tepid corpse. People are talking about summer plans and where they're going and how they can't wait to be done with the year. And I can't make any plans. I don't know when my last official day of work is, I don't know if I have a job for the fall yet, I don't know if I'll need to look for an apartment in Kaifaqu for September, and I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't get on with the high school. I have some ideas, but the job application anxiety is hitting me hard right now. It's distracting me... making my sleep restless and is making my gut do backflips. But as spring time thaws and I start to stretch my legs and get that little hint of ambition, I try hard to have something to focus on. It's just a world of flux, as per usual.

A day set aside

2010-03-08T04:55:00.001-08:00

To the women in my life,

For all the passion, intelligence, beauty, understanding and insight you bring into my life, I want to say thank you. You challenge me in a number of ways, whether it's through the demands to be a better friend, better teacher, better mate or better man. Whether you're encouraging me in my personal and professional life, or you're inspiring me to think that all women are just a little bit crazy*, I still thank you for challenging my worldview, my opinions and my suppositions about life. My world is a more beautiful place because of all of you. A quote I saw that I think I should share:

Women really do rule the world. They just haven't figured it out yet. When they do, and they will, we're all in big big trouble. ~"Doctor Leon,"

Happy International Women's Day.

* (Something cheeky was necessary.)

A note on transition, and words from December

2010-03-03T18:27:00.002-08:00

It's been a long time coming. Two years in the making. I've kept trying to will myself to it... to force it, to make it manifest. But after giving up this attempt to twist it's arm, the letting go is finally taking place. I'm finally at the point where all the memory is being abandoned in the face of my own understanding. So many things mulled, considered, questioned. And finally I know I'm going to be okay.

I know it's over. I hoped and prayed and desperately desired to hold on to the remnants, hoping that something would come from all the pining and praying and wishing. But I find myself looking back, knowing that this new understanding and sense of calm will be carrying me forward in this life that's been waiting on the doorstep for so long. I guess I let it in after it waited on the porch through the cold. Just as the BoHai Sea begins to thaw, so do I.

I wrote the following four poems in December when I was going through a week or two of missing her. I miss her still, but not in a way of longing. Just in a way of wishing that it hadn't been so miserable. I've finally let her go, and I think we finally are letting the past be the past. I don't know why I neglected to publish them... I know part of it was because I thought the poems were rubbish, but I just want to put them out there so they're not lingering in the drafts folder. I guess it's partly cathartic. I know it's time. It's been time for months. But it's finally happening. And I'm so excited about what's to come. The bitterness and anxiety and desperate longing have faded, and now I'm just staring a big, beautiful and uncertain life in the face. People used to attend Shakespeare performances as a method of experiences this catharsis. This is my method. The poems are untitled (as usual). Remember, these were written nearly 3 months ago and definitely reflect the time.

You're packing up your life
And moving across town.
All the remaining memories
You've kept shut up in that extra room
Are going to creep out and haunt you
Even if it's only for a little while.
Everything that I was to you
Everything that still remains
Of me is in that room.
You don't see my reflection
In the portraits on the wall.
Everything we were together
Remains in that closet
In those boxes I left behind.
I carried on naive hopes
Of coming back some day
And making myself at home again.
You probably think I left you and us behind
And now you're leaving what's left of you and I.

That town, it held some promise
Of a life that was to come...
A new start where we'd walk on, you and me.
I remember walking down those streets
Whispering to them, asking them if they'd mind
If we stuck around a while and made a life there.
I guess the answer got lost in the wind
Or the snowy cold
Since it wasn't a town for us
But was a town for you.
Now it's a town I'll never return to.

Maybe you have all the answers
Now that you've shed your guilty conscience
But I don't have that luxury.
The best I hope for is that the sadness
Doesn't sink too far under my skin
And if I hope hard enough
A little hope and excitement will return
For me, and for a new life without you.

____________________________________________________

I said, "It's nice to meet you," after telling her my name
She said, "I can see the lingering sadness behind your eyes."
I asked, "Can I buy you a coffee or dinner sometime?"
She said, "Not until you stop asking why, lord, why."

I told her, "I love the way you smiled back there."
She said, "You're holding on to something you can't leave behind."
I asked, "Are you doing something new with the colour of your hair?"
She replied, "The only thing you need to change is all that's in your mind."

It's high time to walk the new road now
No more faking it along the way
The only thing worth finding is what I know
Even though I won't find you at the end of the day

The signs have all been pointing
To all you haven't said
But in all this constant silence
I found what I knew I'd dread
Goodbye. Goodbye.
There's no way to dance around it all.
Goodbye. Goodbye.
It's time to say goodbye.

______________________________________________

Tonight my reflection in the window
Seems nothing like the man I knew in the past
I'm not sure whose eyes are looking
Back at me

I've been reflecting on all the memories we'll bury
And how I thought it'd last
Now I'm not sure what I'm feeling
As I fall silently asleep

My eyes are adjusting to the darkness
And my skin stopped sensing the cold
Within the shadows I'm not sure what's lurking
Other than a little misery.

This is everything I've been coming to
My memory is shed, and everything is new
The only thing left is everything I want to do
And everything I leave behind is all I did for you.

_______________________________________________

I left the door open after I got home tonight
I'm leaving it that way until midnight
Maybe you'll catch a cab
Or walk by sometime around eleven
Then we'll talk until the sun rises
Like friends who used to know each other

I left the door open again all week
It'll probably stay that way until Friday
Just in case you can catch a flight
Or find the the train into town and stop by
For a few minutes
Or for the rest of your life.
Maybe we can catch a movie and talk about
The way it all seems to work out in the end

I've been keeping the door ajar all year
Just enough to let you know you can still come in
But the house is getting cold and all the plants are dying
I've got blankets piled up around me
But the position of the door ain't changing
Is there chance you'll be here by the new year?
I've got a little more wood to burn but soon
It'll all be frozen.

The door isn't closing, but this time I ain't to blame
I can't take responsibility for leaving it open
I've been stuck in the same position
For a whole year now, never leaving
My place on the chair beside the empty, ash-laden fireplace
I'm not moving anywhere anymore

I guess there's no sense in talking to the bones
They're not going anywhere
I don't feel the cold anymore like I used to
But then again, there's so much I got used to.
The draught from the door does little more
Than to rustle the dust beneath my feet.

I spring awake as I hear the door click shut
Was it blown closed by the spring air
Beyond the windows?
I'm hearing footsteps steadily approaching
I'm wondering who that could be
But soon I realize it's the sound of my own feet
And it wasn't the wind but my hands upon the door
That made the latch click shut
I have my keys in hand and am walking toward the car
No longer on the inside of all the waiting
I'll be gone a while, and I'll be travelling far.

T

The wax and wane of travel

2010-02-19T04:28:00.001-08:00

I'm lying as still as I can as the pavement rumbles underneath my body. I feign silence, but my mind is louder than the music in my ears. There's a bipolar electricity coursing in my soul right now. I'm still in the process of letting go... letting it all fade away. This strange new future of mine is on the doorstep but it remains obscured with all the gray beyond the window. I keep feeling the lightning in my veins but it's so often followed by the uncertain sensation of all that remains unknown in front of me.

I'm seeking a hand to hold, as if it'll be the salve that will release all that makes me restless through the night. The desire for such comfort makes the barriers of shyness crash to the floor and boldness rises to the surface. It's definitely not a false sense of confidence... just one that seems to be rediscovering itself as it finds itself.

****

Thoughts of her pass through my mind, but they have more of a fleeting sensation than they've ever had before. She's still there in the recesses of my mind, but she doesn't want us anymore. And I'm finally at a point where I'm okay with that. The future staring at me in the mirror is an exciting one full of potential. I seek one who inspires me and excites me like this trip has done. I know I've covered these ideas and feelings before, but it's seems like such a long time since I've been really excited about my life. Even when I first moved to China, there was a sense that I was running and wasn't ready and wasn't sure about anything, especially myself. But I'm starting to find that again. I don't think I knew how lost I was while everything was falling apart, but I might've been as lost as she was. I've even had a sense that some of those around me saw that very thing but couldn't or didn't know how to say anything. But I know it now. It's like I was suffering from emotional cataracts, but the milky fog is starting to burn off in the light of this new life.

It's weird... I'm absolutely exhausted right now. I've been travelling for nearly six weeks now and my return to China is a looming reality. I'm okay with it though, other than the daunting idea of returning to work in about 10 days. I'm tired from the travel, from being "up" and excited all the time, from the constant story-telling and experiencing new faces. I haven't spent more than a few days with any single individual this trip, and I'm craving that to a certain extent. I thought I knew what my plans for my week of vacation in the spring were going to be, but that might change. There are so many things I want to know about what's to come, but I know I have to be patient. The older I get, the more I realize that I'm a bit more of a homebody than I ever thought. I guess I should've known... all the time spent in familiar coffee shops around familiar faces back on the familiar, rainy coast or in the familiar, dusty prairies.

On I go, seeking what I crave and all the things that make me feel like me again. Whether that takes the form of an excellent book or delicious food or the sight of a place that I only ever knew in my wild, childhood dreams. I'm beginning to find the Vietnam that I believed in as a child. It was the same with Thailand as my buses traveled north, or in Borneo as my bus rumbled through the jungle. The stuff of dreams...

Extensions

2010-01-04T03:32:00.001-08:00

The last and most recent poem is one I wrote many weeks before it was published. For some reason, I didn't feel like publishing it immediately. Rather, I invited a close friend to review it, looking for some honest and critical feedback. It's something I rarely do (asking for real, literary feedback), but I thought it was one that could inform my writing. As you'll see, she found my preamble more interesting than the poem (which I can appreciate). So, in the spirit of engaging with the process, I thought I'd both write a bit about the poem and print what I wrote her in the email. I'm still not sure why I decided to send that poem on that night, but it had an interesting result nonetheless.

First, my hesitation/delay/thoughts in my head...

After reading through the past year of this blog, I noticed (obvious as it was) the vast majority of the posts came from a place of venting and of reconciliation. It wasn't that I was attempting to reconcile anything in my actual relationship (because, as you may have guessed from these posts, I believe/know that such things can only be healed through mutual participation). It has had more to do with taming and understanding and attempting to heal from the emotional tornado that has ripped through my life. All that was known is now unknown. All that was light became dark. Even though I don't challenge the importance of my writing (it's too much like lifeblood to me), I always knew it was more about the cathartic process than the writing process. Even in all my self-indulgent dreams, I have an impossible time seeing the potential in anything I write beyond the fact that I feel the impulse, the need, to put it all down on paper (or out into the virtual world, as the case may be).

In noticing this heavily weighted trend, I thought I'd tamper with some of the ideas that I'd scribbled down over those previous few days/weeks (which never materialized into anything), and attempt something a little more structured and maybe a little less, well, desperately morose. Let's be honest... some of it was downright depressing. I maintained the subject matter, but did so without context in an attempt to make it more universal. I tried to use more concrete language and fewer abstract ideas to develop a theme throughout. While reading previous poems, I sometimes (read: often) found that they lost their way in the rhyme and in the moment and their beginning and end didn't always find each other. As it turns out, one of the side effects might have been too many concrete images and not enough substance. But, it's all about learning and I'm glad she was as honest as she was (even if she did nearly abandon the critical process by condemning her own opinion and telling me it's "lovely" :) ). I appreciate the help, DvP.

Now, the email, so you can all participate in all facets of my mindset at the time:

It seems like I go in spurts with my writing, and I seem to have little control over when I'm feeling like telling a story and when I'm not. Some days the words spray from my fingers like a leaking roof during a torrential rain. I never edit... never spend time proofing these rivers of words that pour out onto the page. You asked me in one of my comments if it'll ever turn this writing into something more. I knew what you meant and have considered it. But the fact that the words exist and they're placed somewhere may be enough consolation for me. Few people read [this] blog (and that's always been the case), and even though I know that there's a couple people who still stop by and peruse and participate in that frail, nervous world I maintain, my purpose has always been cathartic, and maybe just the slightest bit egotistical. My poetry, ridden with cliche and overly obvious rhyme, has never been a place of confidence for me. I go back later and continually shake my head at the lack of skill and precision involved (most of the time, anyway). But the one thing I always remember and still acknowledge is that it's always real. There's times I don't always find the right word. There's other times I can't string together a comprehensible thought to save my life. But I know that at the moment of writing, it's something that needs to get out, and so I "speak" in gray type on a black background. Funny... light impressed upon the darkness... if that's not a metaphor...

And so.

T

Boxes in closets

2009-12-22T16:52:00.001-08:00

I used to listen to all those
Radio friendly love songs
Thinking about how everything seemed to be
Just right,
Moments were a postcard,
A framed black and white portrait
In an art boutique
On a quiet street
Or hung askew
On the walls of the bedrooms
Of young lovers...
Moments depicting
The moment I was living in
The one I was dreaming in
Those words
And their music
And the penned sense of hope
Were a part of my story...
Were telling my story.

I listen to them now
And it's all memories...
Dusty photo albums
In shoe boxes
In the dark
Alongside love letters
And mementos
From the summer fair
Or a Saturday night movie stub...
Maybe a quietly penned note
Slipped into the warm pocket of a wool coat
During the first snowfall of the year.

These songs
Are all nostalgic talk
And thoughts about the way
Things used to be
The way shutters
Clicked
And
Caught
Happiness in a flash.

Fortune's wheel keeps turning
Dependably and relentlessly
Rolling over itself,
From the crest
Where you can live inside pleasure
Singing these tunes
Of celebratory romance...
To the bottom
Of desperate memories
Clinging to long forgotten boxes
Lost deep in the recesses
Of abandoned closets
Holding all that used to be
Known to me.

Reflections on times long past

2009-12-18T05:59:00.002-08:00

Over the past few weeks, I've received a few "friend requests" and messages on my Facebook page from people I used to know in high school. Often, I reluctantly accept their "invitations" because I feel it's the polite thing to do, only to delete them a month or six months or a year later because I'm just not interested in them being a part of my world. It's been years since any contact, and sometimes the contact wasn't wonderful to begin with. I've always faced this with some ambivalence, because it's hard to decide why I am reluctant or why I feel like I need to politely accept such invites when I don't have any common ground with these people and don't plan to be in their vicinity anytime soon.

The other problems lies within my mediocre (read: horrendous) memory. I've had friend requests from people, and I cannot even remember what they look like or in what way we interacted. It doesn't happen often, but it happens. Other times, I'll encounter people when I return to my hometown and I get them confused with others. I do it unintentionally, but my life has been pretty detached from southern Alberta for a long while now. After graduation, I made a whole group of new friends who continue to be in my circle now. There are probably fewer than 15 people who I contact who I went to high school with and still attempt to see when I go back home. And even the number of 15 is a stretch. I see maybe 4 or 5 and then leave.

My ten-year high school reunion is coming up this summer, and although I think I'd attend if I am in Canada at the time, I'm just not sure what's there for me. I was pretty involved in life at the school, but my friend group was always fairly close and fairly small. Sure, I knew tonnes of people, but I only considered some friends who I'd actually trust in any way. I just feel like many were just extras in the drama of my life. I'm positive this presents as arrogant, but that is my last intention. It was a time in my life where I was often looking for an intense connection and deep level of trust with these friends, and if I found that, they remained in my life. If not, I didn't go out of my way to make them a part of my life. Part of this was because of my lack of cool (I was never running with the super popular kids... I was mid-range at best).

I seem to still seek that connection. I need to find that comfort... that trust level. I'll be the first to admit this seems to happen with women more often than men. I'm not sure why, but I'm often much more guarded around guys than I am around girls. Maybe it's because I always felt (and still feel) threatened by other guys and it takes me a lot of time to let down that wall whereas I find it easier with women. Even though I'm perfectly capable of maintaining friendships with guys, it takes me a lot more work.

I look in the mirror and wonder what these people of my past will see. What does my university/work/life resume say about me? In what kind of box will I be placed by those who arrive at this reunion to reminisce? Will I be chastised by my failings? (I could be a real jerk to people I didn't like. I dread the image some people have of me if it's still based on my middle/high school persona.)

And I look in the mirror and wonder how I see myself. Sometimes the glimpse I get is not the glimpse of the man I used to know. It's not a bad sense that I receive... just an unfamiliar one. Needless to say it's related to the past eighteen months of soul searching. But what of it? Why all the questions about this question of identity? Is the "unexamined" life "worth living"?

Whatever the answer to these million questions, I remain.

New album I'm listening to...

2009-12-14T23:34:00.001-08:00

I recently checked out John Mayer's new album, Battle Studies. There's a song on it called, "Who Says" that I'm a big fan of. It's kinda summing up a lot of the sentiment I've been feeling in previous months...

"Who says I can't be free

From all of the things that I used to be?

Rewrite my own history...

Who says I can't be free?"

Check out the video.

Funny how I've always found some sort of soundtrack to the sentiments of my life. A lot of time I think I'm writing my own soundtrack... I just don't have the music to accompany all the words.

Trying

2009-12-10T00:53:00.003-08:00

There's a million steps behind me
These shoes, they're wearing down
But I can't help looking back
Wondering if you're coming 'round

I've left the door open during winter
And the windows open through the rain
I keep checking the mailbox for your letters
But the postman tells me, "Nothing came."
When I tell you that I want you
To be the one making that call
It's because I'm just too tired
And the thing keeping me up is my back against the wall.

I keep moving forward like I told you
I keep trudging though the muck
Thinking maybe you'll walk right through that open door
And maybe experience just a little bit of luck

Stop telling yourself that you're letting me
Get on with my distant life
You gotta start fighting for me and taking chances
If you want to end the strife

I've been the one who writes you letters
And sure, you often reply
But if you want real hope, you'll put pen to paper
And show me that you're ready to try.
TM

Holding on to letting go

2009-12-05T18:39:00.002-08:00

I had to let go
Of everything I was holding on to
'Cause it was burning me
Hurting me
Making me scream out in pain

I had to let it go
Because of all it put me through
I guess I reached a point
While I was reaching out to you
Where I knew
That until you were reaching back
Reaching out is the last thing
That I should do

Maybe there's still a glimmer
Just a shot
In the dark
But I don't see you striking the match
Or lighting the candle
I've been looking for
I don't know it you're just too scared
Or if you're angry or if you simply
Can't forgive and reconcile
Everything that's passed
Because I don't know anything
About you these days
These radio-silent days
That you keep
Out of my sight

You used to tell me that you'd want
Another chance one day
And I kept telling you
The chance you have is the one
You don't use

Stop fearing useless fears
And crying unnecessary tears
It's all at the tip of your fingers
It might seem hard
To hit the send button on that message
But it's the only way
You know it's the only way

I keep thinking that if you really wanted
A little more time
With me
Or if you had a bit of hope that maybe
Things could change
Then maybe you'd be the one
To seek me out
You'd step out of
These shade-drawn shadows
And away from the secret company you keep
Just maybe you'd reach out to me
But maybe, just maybe
You worry that when you finally do
You wouldn't find me reaching back
To you

The way you're going now
You'll never know

T

A little understanding

2009-11-29T07:37:00.001-08:00

You have such an advantage
Such an overwhelming advantage
Living your mysterious life
In whatever form it may take now
Whether it takes the form
With another mysterious person
Filling in all the spaces I know
Nothing about

But you get my life
In postcard sized stories
Packed into neat boxes
Ready for you whenever
You have a whim to indulge
And keep abreast of everything
That my life is becoming.

Sure, this ain't the complete life story
But we haven't known each other's stories
In a long, long time.

I've spent a lot of time asking
Myself a million questions
Wondering why you don't seem to be
Responding to any of the things I say
When you know that all I'm asking is
For you to just say something.
But you keep staying so silent
Away from the things you're running from.

It's so easy to start assuming the worst
When there's nothing other than silence
To fill the void and empty air you provide.
And it's pretty damn easy to give it all up
When you're talking to the wind.
You get all this understanding
And you won't let me understand.

Two

2009-11-23T02:44:00.002-08:00

Things I've thought of and written about when songs have come on the radio recently...

One

It all started off so innocently, but it didn't take long for me to say,
"Hello beautiful."
And it was only a few minutes for me to decide that I was interested
In being a part of your life
Whether living on the outskirts
Or being front and centre

From that point on, we started sliding so quickly
Into everything you and me, and what we turned into.
We look back on the years that were creeping up on a decade
Wondering about where all the time went, where it all went wrong
But the problem began when we sprinted at the marathon
And ran out of gas
Before we could ever catch a breath.
We forgot about all the times we were supposed to reflect
And re-evaluate all that was happening between us
But instead we kept looking at everything but ourselves
While indulging in ever small moments

Where we could wrap our hands around love and remember the spark we shared
And knew that maybe.., just maybe we were still made for each other.

But I already know you're too far gone to be rescued
And rescuing's the last thing you want in this world
At least not from me, from the man that you formerly believed
Would be the one you'd hold onto and walk on with
So we're here but we both know we're not
And all this forgetting is what makes it feel impossible
That you'll ever have the courage to give me what I ask for
In any way possible.

_______________________________

Two

The problem was in the forgetting it all
And the misery we piled and heaped on our fall
In ignoring the pledge we made to each other
In front of our friends and to one another
The one about maybe just trying forever
To work side by side and never sayin' never
Now we not only have the geographical distance
But we live on opposite sides of an emotional canyon
And never will we find our way out of this mess
Unless...

But I can't really say I'm holding on to this hope
'Cause I've realized I'm alone at the end of this rope
So I'm hanging on tightly to the shreds that remain
Of the man that I was when you still said my name
With a sense of belief in what we still were,
So much disappeared when you became so unsure...

I know that I have to have the belief in myself
That I'm not gonna get rescued by anyone else
You make it hard to believe in things working out
But I can't always let you be my reason to shout
I opened up windows when you couldn't see the door
But you just felt the draughts and continued to ignore
All the times that I held a small branch in my hand...
You stayed right where you were and continued your stand.
There's light at both ends of the darkness you're in
But you remain in the middle without a decision
You remain on the rock that's nearby your feet
And you're losing one last chance to allow us to meet.

So here I do stand in this life made anew
But rather than fresh, I feel beaten and blue
I know that I walk a new, dream-filled path
But I can't help but mourn the death of our past.

T

Battling Philosophies

2009-11-20T06:38:00.002-08:00

I'm a pretty stubborn dude. Most of you are likely reading this and asking yourselves why I point out the obvious. I do so because I seem to run into situations where, no matter how vehemently I present a perspective about something, someone will simply tell me I'm wrong (or even just ignore me). I don't even really need to convince them... just persuade them enough for them to think I have a reasonable position. This is generally enough to pacify the rise in blood pressure I face from time to time.

Most of the time, I like to think that I'm open-minded. I'm sure there are a few of you who are asking yourselves, "How can he kid them like that???". I'm sure I can think of instances where this is not the case, but I don't like to focus on those moments. I'm much happier thinking about the times where I think/know I'm correct and I've convinced people of a perspective. Ask my parents... they've known this passion (read: "obsession") for arguing and spouting off about things in a slightly (read: "ridiculously") enthusiastic and vehement way. Others have seen this as well. Anyway, enough about me...

I'm living in a country that doesn't exactly embrace this passion for conflict management. And I'm definitely teaching in an environment where I can see faults and flaws in a big system, and I've been told that I need to learn to just live with it. Of course, I've said it before: TIC. As you can imagine, though, this ain't no easy pill to swallow. I like to have my chance to voice my perspective and I like even more to convince people that things need to change (if, of course, I think I've found a flaw or gap). In China, this is not only discouraged, but it's systematically removed from the whole equation. It's not easy to bring up grievances when no one is available to listen. And the few voices who I expected to listen (read: my fellow foreign ESL teachers from Canada) have their own dictatorial regimes that they're unwilling to change. Or they're feeling drowned by this system so they tell me to move on and forget about it because the system is much larger than I can see and I don't have the power to fix. The only thing left is to work within it.

I understand the truth of this sagely advice. I also know I'm speaking very generally here. I guess I don't want to get too far into it for professional reasons, and so I'm attempting to get past it all. It's just not that easy. I'm already dealing with a variety of personal challenges relating to my life both in and out of the school (mostly out), and this is only compounding the frustration. Maybe I seek out this sort of conflict (because I sure seem to find it easily enough... maybe I pursue this sort of "safe" confrontation because it helps me battle my demons. I don't know.

There is a bit of sunshine in this rant. It's FRIDAY. And because the Chinese teachers are stuck at the school all weekend (our school is hosting a national meeting of Chinese public school teachers) there were some complaints among the staff and the admin is taking everyone in the ESL departments out for dinner. So the equation is such: Friday + Free Food = Satisfied T. Maybe life isn't so bad. Sometimes I just gotta wait out the rain. I don't know if it's time to come out yet, but I'm on the way.

A song to finish my run began with the line...

2009-11-19T00:17:00.001-08:00

... "Can you believe in something bigger than what you left behind?"

I can only hope.

(Lyrics c/o Grace Potter and the Nocturnals)

As life changes

2009-11-15T16:48:00.001-08:00

I've probably done more introspection and reflection on myself and my life in the past 18 months than I've done in the past 4 years. It's strange to see the places I've been to and where I've come from (and I'm not speaking just geographically). As with anything, though, the more I learn, the less I know. I have a lot of self-awareness to show for it... but I also find that some ideas and habits are hard to break away from, even when I'm standing toe to toe with them, screaming at them to let me be.

I think a lot of changes have been taking place in me recently. Not obvious, radical changes. Just quiet ones that help provide me with maybe a bit more insight into the habits and beliefs that have stayed near me for so long. I'm not a new man in any measurable way. The eyes you see (or those you imagine) are the same eyes I've always had. To a certain extent, the sadness still lingers in them. But it is not the sadness that determines who I am. Just because it exists does not mean that it is all that exists. I worried sometimes, though, if that would be the case. I also worried that my relationship status (or status lingering from my former relationship) would determine who I am from this point forward. And maybe for some people, it will. I can only do my best to deal with the heartache and the scars left behind in the wake of that part of my life, while I also do my best to maintain the best parts of who I was and who I know I am. Beyond that, I need to be honest about it all when I'm faced with questions about those pieces of me. It happened to me... it shaped me. But it is not me.

This is all flooding out of a recent experience where I realized that this past of mine may be important to others. Not in any direct way where I'm judged and sentenced according to it... but in a way that some may affect their perspectives. I know that it has been an hugely important formational (is this a word?) experience, and even though it is in no way the essence of who I am, it is something that will like impact my decisions and my relationships from this point forward. It matters... but in the way that our eating habits affect our health, or an injury impacts future performance. Past does not necessarily determine future. But it sure as hell has something to say about it. All I can do is be honest with me and hope that this honesty shines through the darkness that may be cast around it.

Thinking (One of those days)

2009-11-12T19:14:00.001-08:00

This is just another one of those days

where I get to thinking about the past.

It's my fault, I know. I was the one reaching out.

I was the one who thought that a word, or a few,

Would be enough of a bridge,

Enough of an opportunity

Even if it was just a song that made me think

Of a world I used to to know.

I know I have to be willing to consider

That you'll never take the first step,

Never be the one to send the letter

Explaining everything that's never been said...

The letter that would explain away all the silence

And all the sadness and all the things you've

Come to realize.

Even if this realization is that you're ready

To say goodbye.

I guess I can't change someone's history

Unless it's my own.

And I guess that this wishing is simple vanity,

Because the silence is all you know.

I've tricked myself in believing that I have the power

To change your mind.

But I know that I 'm just kidding myself...

I must not be what you're looking to find.

Happy Bachelor(ette)'s Day

2009-11-11T05:45:00.001-08:00

I'm in one of my grade 9 classes this afternoon, and the kids were snickering and laughing a bit at the start of class. Not knowing what was going on, I just smiled, said hello and began speaking to the class. We talked briefly about their midterm grades (which they just received today) and I asked them if they knew what holiday it was back in Canada. Laughingly they responded, "It's 11-11 day!" I said, "Yes, it's November 11th. But do you know the name of the holiday in Canada today?" Still sniggering and giggling away, they started speaking in Chinese to each other, trying to figure out the right way to say it. I could tell that what I had in mind and what they were thinking were two different things.

You may ask, what is the first phrase that comes to their mouths? "It's Lonely Person Day!" By the confused look on my face, they realized that "lonely" might not be the right word. I asked if they were sure that they had the right word. Then one of the students piped up, "It's Single Person Day!" Again, looking confused, I wrote it on the board with a question mark to see if I had it right. It turns out that yes, it is in fact "Single Person Day", or "Bachelor's Day". I tried to get them to explain the day to me, but the only thing they'd tell me (with smiles and nervous laughter) is that it's a good luck day for single men (but maybe not for single women?) because of the four "1"s that come up in the numerical writing, and single people are "sticks" like in 11-11. I never did get an elaboration... I guess they didn't know how to say that it's a good day for "picking up chicks".

Regardless, I thought it was pretty funny. After the laughter died down, I did go on to explain to them that Canadians remember the lost soldiers from past wars and family we've also lost in the years gone by. I told them about the moment of silence that extends across Canada in the morning and about the poppies of Flander's Fields. I recited a few verses of the famous poem, discussed the sombre tone of the "remembrance", and then couldn't help but laugh at them when, immediately following my respectful explanation, they began asking about me and my relationship status with HUGE grins on their faces. Let's just say I moved on to the next part of the lesson pretty quickly.

It was too funny not to share.

So to all of you single folk out there, Happy Bachelor's Day from China!

Wake up call

2009-11-04T16:48:00.001-08:00

It's 4am and my bed begins rattling against the wall. I wake from a deep sleep, confused and wondering why the ground underneath me is shaking. It's dark in my room, so I can't really comprehend what the noise is or where it's coming from. As my senses slowly collect themselves, I realize that I'm being woken up again by something that kept me up for a night last week: bombs and heavy artillery.

I guess I should explain this if I haven't already. Living in the rural part of Dalian that I am, there's a nearby firing range and heavy artillery base which must carry out semi-regular practice. And because I'm out in the boondocks, they do night-time training exercises nearby at any hour they please. It might have started earlier than 4am... I'm not sure. But it continued through until about 6:30am. I knew this because at the exact time my alarm went off beside my bed, the shelling and booming and crashing ceased. Only when I was ready to get up did it stop. Is that irony? I think I'm too tired to figure it out.

The week at school has been pretty normal, but a bit frustrating. I have a class of grade 9s who are collectively pretty weak (even though there are about 8 really solid students). The main problem is these kids fall back on the excuse that they don't understand my directions or the stories or the questions or the word "dictionary" (even when they have fully Chinese explanations), and they simply neglect to do their work. Instead, just like teenagers do, they goof off and slack off and refuse to ask questions or come prepared with translators/dictionaries that would enable them to complete the work. And since I don't have backups because of the poorly stocked book and dictionary supplies at the school, I'm left frustrated and they rely on taking answers from other kids. Although I have some ideas about how I'm going to change this starting on Monday, it still irks me just a bit.

In other news, I still haven't received any Chinese lessons yet. Most or all of the kids who needed the Chinese Foundations class here at the school (the most basic level of intro Mandarin) have been able to move up to level 2, there's not actually a class for me to take right now. So I'm trying to get some programs online that will aid me in my self-study. I'm also hoping that one or two of the teachers here will be keen to do the same thing so I won't go at it alone. I see a lot of talking to myself in the future. Not the crazy voices-in-head talking, but a lot of in-home Mandarin recitation instead of spending time watching every season of Dexter or Criminal Minds.

The weekend looks like it will be spent in Kaifaqu again, but I'm hoping to do a bit more exploring. Apparently there's a pretty kitschy Dinosaur Park somewhere in that part of town, so I think it would be a riot to check out and act like a kid for an afternoon. Then it looks like I'll be filling my belly with Korean BBQ after that with some new acquaintances... should be delicious. D&M are working hard on marking and Masters stuff, so hopefully they'll inspire me to get motivated and do the same, but at this time it remains to be seen. It would make my life much easier in the long run though. If any of you have brilliant ideas to teach kids writing and speaking who don't know a language, please let me know!

Streetside experiences

2009-10-19T04:11:00.001-07:00

It's Saturday night and I'm walking towards D&M's apartment in Kaifaqu. Darren and I were returning from the cobbler and a few other stops after he took in some of his shoes for fixing. For less than $15 Canadian, he had two pairs of shoes fully repaired and a pair of Mandy's boots were polished, buffed, and had the heel replaced. As we talked about how impressed we were with both the price of the job and the seemingly great quality of the work, we noticed a bit of commotion on the street ahead. Twenty feet from us, on the boulevard and sidewalk of a moderately busy road (and only another twenty feet from the entrance door to D's building), men were setting up boxes and standing beside stations, dodging traffic in the typical Chinese Frogger way, dodging cars and motorcycles, coordinating the order in which everything would take place. D and I were intrigued and excited, as we knew what was approaching. Other curious spectators from the nearby businesses and apartments poked their heads out of windows and doors to get a glimpse of the action. After final adjustments were made, the first match was struck and was held to a fuse at the corner of one of the boxes. As this man pulled away from his box, three other men approached their stations with lighters lit and carried out the same task. Within a second, lights and fire and sparks shot from the boxes and explosions boomed overhead. Traffic moved between the boulevard and the sidewalk as if oblivious to the explosive fireworks blasting only a few feet away. Rockets shot into the air and exploded about 40 feet above our heads in a myriad of colours and sounds. The ash fell silently amidst the crashing and whistling and pounding of the flashes above. The childish laughter of D and I was mute in comparison to the roaring in our ears. Pyrotechnic smoke began to cloud the roadway, but still the cars went by unconcerned with the possibility of an errant explosive device sailing into an open driver side window. The local Japanese teppanyaki restaurant window was full of specators including the cooks and wait staff. One of the chefs held onto one of the lighters near the roadway, as he was one of the participants in the spectacle. The massage parlour next door featured the same window of awe-filled faces, which were obviously full of anxious excitement. It was even more impressive than some of the Canada Day fireworks we'd watch as kids, yet this was simply an amateur display on a Saturday night.

Ten long minutes later, the last of the happy explosions blasted in the sky above us. We started dusting the burnt ash from our shoulders and hair as we laughed and began to head upstairs. You couldn't have peeled the smiles from our faces. It was such an amazing scene without any real context or indication that these fireworks may have been connected to something specific. Maybe it was a promotion for the Japanese restaurant. Maybe it was to celebrate a wedding and to wish good luck to a newly married couple. Whatever the case may be, the simple pleasure derived from the event was well worth it.

We spent the rest of the night filling our bellies with food and drink and playing cards while the sun sank from view over the Bo Hai Sea. The night remained warm and calm. I knew the next morning would come quickly as I planned to tag along with Mandy and a few of her teacher friends on an hour-long run through the streets and hills around Kaifaqu. But as we got back to their apartment and I landed on the couch, I laughed at the fact that you never really know what you're going to experience here on any given night.

The school week has started once again and I've started thinking about my winter holiday trip in January and February. Because of the complications with my pay dates (and first month amount), I haven't booked any of my excursion(s) yet. However, I'm hoping to find my way south to Malaysia and other parts of SE Asia. In the meantime, I'm hoping to join D's hockey team as "Coach" on a trip north of Dalian, as they've set up a game with another hockey team next weekend. We still have plans for a weekend trip to Beijing as well, and I'm still hoping to keep in shape well enough that I can train for the Great Wall 1/2 marathon. I don't think the weather will be hospitable enough (nor will I have the partner support) for me to train for the full marathon (not this year, anyway), but I hope to do the half in May. But there are many days and big plans ahead, so I'll just have to see where the adventure takes me.

This is China

2009-10-13T01:28:00.001-07:00

It's starting to rain lightly but darkly outside the window from my office. I know that I'm a long way from home today, and although it didn't seem so prevalent earlier, it seems to be setting in right now. Surrounding me are the voices of a culture and language that I don't understand and have only experienced closely for the past twelve days. Even these past twelve days have had me avoiding cultural integration here and there as I spend time with Canadian friends and familiar faces while carrying on familiar activities that I knew back just a few weeks ago on North American soil.

So far, this trip has been a great experience. Every day that I live here I am confronted with my own assumptions about learning and about language and about culture. Regularly… no, constantly, I ask questions relating to "why" when looking into the habits of the people and the country that surrounds me. And just as constantly, I find myself coming up with the same response that Leo DiCaprio's character in Blood Diamonds has when discussing Africa: TIA. Except in my case, it's TIC: This is China.

I've adjusted to a few things so far… riding the bus (at least to one single location) is something I can manage on my own, as is taking the Dalian LRT. I've started figuring out the supermarkets (although I only really know what less than half of the items on the shelves REALLY are). And I've even started to get used to the public mannerisms a bit. Being a white person in a VERY quiet and VERY Chinese area of the city makes me the object of blatant staring, particularly when I slip on my running shoes and go for a run up along the highway by the ocean. Workers stop what they are doing and literally gawk. I've learned quite quickly that it's more out of curiosity and the simple fact that there's a very pasty kid in a-typical clothes doing an activity that few Chinese people do. Sometimes it can be unnerving, but there always seems to be the odd person who will go out of their way to say "Ni hao" and smile. This is definitely the exception, though, not the rule, and it takes some getting used to.

It can also be isolating out here. I'm a long way from the city, and although the area I'm in is very beautiful, my contact with the outside world is limited to my teaching officemates, the kids, and the few people I can contact via the internet. I didn't have internet access at my apartment for the first week, so the nights were quite dark and quiet. But in this quiet, I have found a little bit of calm. There is still a bit of anxiety lingering from everything over the past year, and I can't say that I've really moved on from what I've immersed myself in over the past 8 years. But new days bring new experiences, and I do my best to control what is in my ability to control while making an attempt to enjoy the challenges of this new, strange place I'm calling home for the next year or two.

I've been posting a bit more on the other blog site so I can keep my friends/family up to date with the day to day living out here. Writing is helping me feel connected to everyone back in Canada, even though it feels a bit like a one-way connection. For now, though, it's enough. From the Bohai Sea…

Been a while...

2009-09-30T11:11:00.002-07:00

I'm sitting in the airport, trying to think about what kind of uber-Canadian sort of food I'm going to have for lunch before flying to Tokyo. I'm thinking if it's something truly Canadian, it'll have to be either a) covered in back bacon, or b) have the option of poutine as a side.

I probably should avoid both since I'll be on a plane for the 10 hours following the feast, but we'll have to see. My apologies for being absent... the past few weeks have absolutely zipped by, and I haven't barely had time to catch my breath.

I will still be posting at this site, but I have also set up another more public blog for my travels/teaching stories. The name is quite similar... rather than "dimsumthing", it's "dimsumseeker" with the same rest of the address. I'm using that as a way to keep in touch with the legions of fans back home (or, at least with my family, friends, and a handful of co-workers). I'm going to try to handle both, but the 4 or 5 who stop by here on occasion, thanks for keeping up the reading, and I hope you keep in touch. Take care...

T

Oh, how the world does change

2009-09-14T23:13:00.002-07:00

It's time for a new adventure.

And if it isn't actually time for a new adventure, I'm launching myself head-first into one regardless of it I'm ready or not!

Only a month ago I was vaguely considering the possibility of going overseas to pursue a teaching position which veiled my desire to travel and see Asia. And only a few days ago, I was offered a teaching position in NE China teaching ESL at a middle-school feeder associated with the BC certified schools around China. So, in less than two weeks I'll be boarding a very large JAL plane destined for Japan before making my connection to Dalian, China.

I'd like to say I'm not scared... that sheer excitement is the only emotion I'm feeling. But the timeline I'm facing is extremely short. And the daunting idea of moving across the world and immersing myself in a completely foreign culture for a year (or potentially even more!) is scary as hell. I've had an extremely tumultuous year, and after everything, I still wonder if I'm ready for a change this drastic. But I'm also one of those people who hates not following through on a commitment, and now that I've quit two jobs, told my landlord about my extremely quick departure and signed the paperwork, I have no choice now. Insanity, here I come!

I know that I'm in need of a change. I've spent the last 18 months living in a holding pattern, hoping and praying for things to work out with the love of my life. In that time, I've become increasingly exhausted with the waiting, and felt as though I needed to start pursuing something more, well, "me" driven. Even though I'm still holding onto a slim slice of hope that things will one day work out, I simply need to become a big more centred and a bit more selfish. I can't say that I haven't been able to enjoy my time in Victoria... it's one of the places in the world that I feel comfortable and at peace. The ocean feels like home even though I grew up in a desert-like prairie setting. And the network of friends I have out here is unbeatable. I still have a lot of love for the western prairies, but there's just something magical about this coastal setting. But something else was calling... something new, and something that I had thought about for a long time. I've always said that I wanted Asia to be my next major travel destination (after my Europe trip), and the opportunity to get paid to travel overseas, get back to my career, and see a part of the world that I've never experienced was just too much to turn down.

I'm checking things off my monstrous list every day. I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update the blog, but I'm hoping to utilize it as a sort of travelogue for my upcoming adventures. I may start a new page that may be more accessible in China, since there is less open access to certain websites when compared to North America. But when I sort that out, I'll keep you few loyal readers posted.

This big, blue world is one in which I want to indulge myself in as many ways as I can. So here I go again. Even though I'm heading out on my own, I know there's a hundred prayers and well-wishes going with me. And maybe the prayers for days past will find their target someday as well. For now, it's you and me, China. My, how the world does change.

T

Clinging

2009-09-07T21:55:00.002-07:00

My feet lie under me wearily
And my focus, it drifts off dreamily
As I sit and wait for another uncertain thing to come

It's all just treading water
Like a desperate cling to survival
As the ocean floor is just a few feet too far away

It's fingers slipping on the cliffside
And hands too fatigued to decide
If they have the strength to hold on just one more breath

The sleep just isn't coming
While the white noise keeps on humming
As I pray for silent breaths to take me to my dreams

But the dreams, they seem so cloudy
And my fears are screaming loudly
So I wait and wait for sleep to find me once again.

T

Anniversaries

2009-09-03T10:59:00.003-07:00

I never believed in the seven year itch. I didn't actually believe that after this arbitrary number of years together that things go myseriously wrong. Ironically, this whole thing began in the seventh year.

K and I met while I was still in high school... she'd been graduated for a year or two already. We had a brief, chance meeting when we worked together for a total of maybe a few hours. After making stalker-ish visits to my workplace on my days off (while, of course, she was working), I convinced her that we should became friends. After our occupational parting, we only sporadically kept in touch, but every time we reconnected, the spark was there. It simply took us three or four years to be in a position to harness that energy.

Eight years later, here we are. Or aren't, as the case may be.

Some people have wondered if I have any regrets, or any ill feelings towards my decisions over these eight years. I can't think of any, other than maybe pushing for some sort of earlier and more pro-active problem-solving when the small things seemed to become problematic. But I don't regret it. I've been morose, melancholy, and just plain sad. But even in the clearest of hindsight, I've never uttered, "what a mistake". The experience has shaped me, and even though it hasn't gone the way I wanted or expected, I can only hold on to the belief that this is what needed to happen, whatever reason that may be.

Another realization I've had to confront is one that has been a big fear of mine all along... by choosing to "move on" and start living my life in whatever definition may be associated with this action, I have to confront the reality that K, too, may (and likely will) move on. She may find someone new now that I'm not really holding her back in any way. She may find someone else to make her laugh and hold her close, and give her the comfort and security I used to provide. Maybe there have been guys just waiting for this opportunity... I can't doubt this for a second, as she's one of the most beautiful women I know. I hate the idea, but I know that I need to face facts, particularly since it was me who has decided to walk away.

For today, though, I'm going to focus on the things that have made me smile along the way, and there have been too many to count. Happy anniversary.

T

Watershed times

2009-09-01T10:49:00.002-07:00

I feel as though I'm sitting on the edge of a cliff in the middle of the night. I have no idea what lies before me, but I know that it's big. And scary. And completely unknown. I'm suffering from absent-mindedness at work, as I'm distracted both by lingering heartbreak and the excitement of a new adventure staring me in the face. There's a creeping sense of nervousness dwelling in the deep recesses of my gut. There are so many thoughts and opinions and worries floating around my brain, that I'm not exactly sure how to process it all. In many ways, it's breeding a sense of discontent with my current work situation. For about a year now, I've been away from the career I chose, working jobs that are paying my bills but aren't paying me back in any sort of rewarding way personally. So I keep looking at the opportunities around the globe and wonder to myself if I'm ready for all of this.

I have to keep in mind that no contracts have been signed. There have been no offers, though the hope still remains that in the next week something will become available. And if it is something that does come up, I have to make the decision to jump or to stay. Does the safety of not jumping have to mean miserable complacency? Not necessarily. But a missed opportunity to jump is a missed experience altogether. And I'm not sure I'm willing to let such things go right now. The scariest things I've done have always been the most rewarding, from my decision to temporarily drop out of University to travel Europe, to moving to the west coast without knowing barely a soul, to getting down on one knee to ask a beautiful woman to love me forever. These decisions have probably shaped me more positively than any other active decisions (or non-decisions), and all of them came with their own sense of fear and uncertainty. So... if an opportunity arises, it's going to be hard to turn down. Ready or not.

My world is nothing but cliff-gripping toes
Tempting the expanse of the unknown below
Indulging in these elephant sized dreams
But yet, there's little more than frayed nerves to show
Maybe it's time to slow... slow... slow...

I wonder if I'll find myself in all these new intrigues
I do know that I've found myself nervous and fatigued
I'm certain that my uncertainty is for all the right things
And that my uncertainty is responsible for the excitement that I breed
The one thing that I hope for is clarity in all I see
If I open up my eyes and leap, I will see.

TM

Finding another place to start anew

2009-08-24T10:30:00.002-07:00

"I guess it's time that I need to move on, then. I can't do it all on my own and you need to be a part of it, too."

It's been more than a year in the unmaking. But after 8 years, and struggling through the past year and a half in an effort to give us a chance to reconcile, no ground was made in moving forward. There has only been two continually separated individuals who cannot find a way back to a common path. So instead of looking across the apparently unbridge-able gulf residing between us, I needed to look forward at the uncertain road in front of me. I haven't really looked forward in a long time, as I was always looking for the point at which our paths would re-emerge out of the dark together. But now I see just one road in front of me and I have to learn how to navigate it on my own.

I hate it. I hate that I was forced by my own frustration and need to start living my life again to make the decision to walk away. I didn't want to. I considered just contenting myself with waiting some more. But I knew what was awaiting that decision... more bitternesss, more resentment and more unhappiness. And the words I spoke to her before I left couldn't have been more reluctant or more true. I needed to move on in whatever sense that meant. And so here I am.

I think I've been doing a lot of things lately to occupy my mind and distract myself from the resentment I have for K, since I've been fighting for so long just to have a shot at coming together again. And because of where she is on her journey, she simply and steadfastly refused. I know she felt some relief from my decision as she wasn't ready to put that nail in the coffin herself. But it took some responsibility and guilt off her shoulders so at least she's feeling a little more at ease.

I guess I am too. The problem is I still love and care for her deeply, and am still reluctant to believe that it may be over for good. I know the resentment stems at least partly from my inability to instigate some healing between us and to make her see that it didn't have to turn out this way. But none of my rhetoric could scale the walls she's put up. I'm still hoping that she'll come around one day, but I know that dwelling on that isn't going to be healthy, and I know that I must start pursuing some of the things I've shelved for a long time.

Lately, I've been goofing off and acting a little bit ridiculous... I feel as though I've suppressed many feelings and urges to go out and be slightly reckless, and now that I don't really have anything (but a bit of good sense) preventing me from doing so, I've embraced it a little. I think I realized that I need to centre myself again though, as I've been all over the place and have been running myself ragged. I've been ingesting a bit too much booze and not getting enough sleep and I feel like I'm missing a part of the old, more subdued me. I don't know if I've just been acting this way because I feel as though I need a change, or that I need to reinvent myself, but it's been happening regardless. So hopefully this week will be full of more quiet and solemn tendancies.

In a somewhat-related realm I've been looking into teaching work overseas and I may have even found something... in China! Over the past few months, I've thought about the possibility of moving away and travelling and using my teaching credentials to get a job overseas somewhere. One of the major reasons I entered the teaching program was for the potential to travel and see the world and get paid while doing it. Since my backpacking trip to Europe I've been wanting to see more of this amazing planet we're on. But after K and I got married, I was trying to think more pragmatically and only vaguely considered moving abroad for my career. We had talked about kids at one point (so that was an obvious consideration) and financially it was going to be challenging (due to my heavy student loan debt). I also thought that K would likely not be able to handle a change from mainland (or van isle) BC to a place like Japan or Bahrain or Korea. Maybe I underestimated her, but I knew how hard it was for her to move to Victoria with me and then to Kelowna. And there were no cultural limitations to confront us when we arrived! I could only imagine how brutal it would've been for her to go to a completely different continent away from her family and be thrust into a wholly foreign culture. We looked into places like Belgium and France at one point (since she speaks French), but even then I didn't pursue things ardently because of the sense that I just didn't think it would be alright.

There was also the problem of establishing my own career... I had just finished my teaching program and wanted to build up some connections in Kelowna so I could get some steady work and start laying down some roots. This made me reluctant as well, since I wanted to be pragmatic for the both of us. Stupid hindsight being 20-20.

Getting back to the talk about China... I should be hearing back from a man in Vancouver who's responsible for the recruiting for the BC Schools in China where I have some friends teaching right now. I was put in touch with the recruiter through my buddy DS, as he's been in Dalian, China for the past year with his lovely wife. There aren't any academic teaching jobs, but there's an ESL position open that I'm hoping to interview for. If things work out, I might be on a plane before the end of September! I'm extremely nervous and excited at the same time. I'm on the cusp of a whole new... I don't know what. But whatever it is, I'm excited to find out.

More on this soon.

T

Nonsense

2009-08-15T00:17:00.004-07:00

This ghost inside me is weighing me down
I can feel every one of it's ten thousand pounds
I am trying to shed it, leave it behind on the ground
But at every turn, at every light, I find that I am found

I try to run far, but it follows in stride
Elusive as I am, it seeks where I hide
I kick and I scream but still it abides
At the end of the day, is it enough that I tried?

Last night as I walked it remained in the streets
And ignored my attempts at swift foot retreats
"No matter what happens, I'm chained to your feet,
You're stuck with me, friend, until it's Death that you meet.

TM

Song

2009-08-13T21:48:00.002-07:00

This song came on the radio tonight on my rainy drive home. Now as I sit out on my patio and wrap myself up in the lonliness, I hope you can embrace the sensation too, however morose...

Press play.

Not Enough

There’s nothing you can say
Nothing you can do
Nothing in between
You know the truth
Nothing left to face
Nothing left to lose
Nothing takes your place

When they say you're not that strong
You're not that weak
It’s not your fault
When you climb up to your hill
Up to your place
I hope you're well

There’s nothing left to prove
Nothing I won't do
Nothing like the pain
I feel for you
Nothing left to hide
Nothing left to fear
I am always here

What you want
What you lost
What you had
What is gone is over
What you've got
What you loved
What you need
What you had is real

It's not enough
It’s not enough
It’s not enough
It's not enough,
I’m sorry
It’s not enough
It’s not enough
It’s not enough
It’s not enough
- Our Lady Peace

And so.

2009-08-13T12:12:00.002-07:00

No ellipses on this dark day
It's all rain, no sunshine, but finally a white flag
Don't trick yourself or misunderstand
This isn't the "finally" of us walking hand in hand
This is the white flag of the dreaded, feared defeat
In which the two of us could not find a place to meet.

I walked out in that thunderstorm
Bottle in my hand
Wondering why you couldn't come around
And why I had to take a stand
Now I have no choice
But to walk another way
To move on to the dreams
I'd lost in yesterday.

My friends tell me I'm not alone
But you're no longer there.
The solidity of our former life
Has vanished in the air.

T

Mutterings

2009-07-26T00:14:00.002-07:00

I'm hearing shots ring out past midnight
And there's silence in the streets
The babes are wrapped in blankets
While the criminals retreat

The lightening outside the window
Seems a hundred miles away
The power's going out
And the storm is here to stay

The shivering won't subside
As I cower in my bed
I thought I'd been found alive
But our love seems surely dead

I'm holding out a single branch
The last one I can bear
Hoping that you can grasp one end
So that this branch is one we share

Still, my naivety won't rule me
Although my wishes still remain
I wait once more in limbo
Holding branches in the rain

TM

Lacking down-time.

2009-07-16T23:12:00.004-07:00

Life has been ridiculously busy. And it's been a balance of work and play, for sure. However, there hasn't been much time for rest lately.

I do a 1/2 marathon without any help from, well, anyone. Four days later I'm being cut into at the local hospital for a misbehaving organ. The surgery was carried out by a rockstar surgeon had my appendix out in less than 10 minutes. I'm on house arrest for about a week. Oh... and bad... my car's a piece of crap and not only do I have to fix it twice in the past two months, but it also gets hit by a hit-and-runner old man driver. However, he'll pay for the damages. Alas, I have to pay the nearly-six-hundred-dollar fee for getting it fixed up front, which sucks. It has not been fixed yet.

Talk about a flip-flop of circumstances and luck!

I work nearly 50 hours a week and only get one token day off most weeks. However, because of my surgery, I get to spend 4 days with my mom while she was visiting (which she had planned prior to my appendix-related adventure). My uncle visits and I'm able to finagle a couple of days off to hang with him and his fiancee, and get to eat carribean food and raw oysters and have the pleasure of being poured into a cab (while my car has a sleepover downtown) after numerous beers and a bit of tequila. Then my sister visits for a weekend and I have 2/3 days off that she's in town. I have another day off, and my friend from Kelowna visits and we go up to the Sooke potholes before heading down to a boat and getting drunk before/while cruising around the inner harbour and gorging ourselves on lobster, steak, asparagus and feta-stuffed olives. Now I have a Saturday off, and it's my good friend's-fiancee's stag, so I'm able to join him and the boys for a booze cruise and a night out on the town, while before this I spend the morning hiking and hanging out with teaching-program friends. Other days off are equally hectic and involve dinner parties, boat trips, some hiking, and other random adventures.

The point of this whole thing is that I've been able to enjoy a lot of good times recently with friends and family and the few days off I receive are full of fun and adventures. It's exhausting, but a tonne of fun.

Upcoming adventures: Wedding in Alberta, then off to Montana for some time with the whole fam in Whitefish/Kalispell, followed by a road trip with my big bro from Montana to K-town to the coast where he'll hang with me for a couple days before going back to the 403. Oh, and another wedding the day after returning to the coast for a good friend.

If only some sort of teaching gig would appear...

T

Oh... on a completely unrelated topic... I'm reading "All Quiet on the Western Front" right now... I have quickly realized why this is such a classic.

Around the sun

2009-06-30T00:23:00.002-07:00

It's a cliche activity... the birthday self-evaluation. But in a way it's inevitable if you give yourself some time for self-reflection. Where to go... what to plan... what to change. Sometimes these activities accompany New Years celebrations, but I find myself looking in the mirror around my birthday.

Often, my mid-year reflections seem to be based in what I have in my life... what I've accomplished, what I hold dear, and who walks the road with me. The path's dustier than I've seen before, but one foot still follows in front of another. There are days which feel as though I've seen this part of the path before... like I've walked in circles for a few days or weeks or months in a row. I believe this is why I'm having a hard time holding on to all the scraps of what's left inside me that wishes for some positive intervention in my relationship. I've become tired... I ask, and am denied. I hope, and wait without seeing any return. And I keep moving because I don't know what else I can do.

Nights like tonight make me miss her so much... quiet nights when I'm walking the streets of this beautiful city alone. Nights that embrace music in the air and silent embraces in silhouette. Nights that say goodbye to the loved-ones we drop off at the airport after a weekend of story-telling and sunshine. And nights where I remain alone and have time to consider the sadness.

I know this blog has become an indulgence in my feelings of being broken-hearted, but I appreciate the few of you who still come by and support me through what I've been going through. "I get by with a little help from my friends"...

The only

2009-06-19T23:29:00.002-07:00

The only things that follow me home

These days

Are shadows and fallen leaves

Blowing and tumbling down the sidewalk

As my feet stamp stamp the pavement

In the dark.

Some have found my clip-clop, right-left wanderings home

In the evening

Strange

And slightly sad.

But I'm more morose when I find myself in cars

Rushing home after the music has stopped

And climbing into bed before the ringing

Has subsided.

I walk to indulge in the tin-ny sounds

Echoing in my ears after an all-night indulgence

Of symphonic beats and strums

Of stringed guitars

And music bars.

I walk to prolong what felt so, so right

Before it all went deeply wrong.

I guess this isn't about the music anymore.

I just know that I don't want to fall asleep quite yet

Unless I have someone breathing beside me

And I don't want to fall away quite yet

Until I know I'm not alone.

I haven't touched the lights switches in my new apartment tonight

Because if I did

I'd know that it's time for teeth to be brushed

And contacts to be taken out

And for socks to be strewn down the hall on my way to my bedroom

So that I can begin my every-eve routine of blankets and pillows

And tossing and turning and prayers for sleep to come

Alone.

No.

I want to keep my head swimming

In the tick tick tick tick of the high hat

And the sometimes dissonant sounds coming from the stage

While the movement and hands and lights that threaten to pull me in.

Don't let sleep come quite yet... I'm just not ready.

Just a few more sounds and a few more whispers

And a few more claps

To break the silence as I tap tap tap

My way to dreamless sadness.

Running with the shadows

2009-06-18T10:07:00.002-07:00

I've found a little piece of freedom.

I moved into a tiny one-bedroom apartment in my old building (from when I was living here a few years ago with K). When we moved out here together (my second year of living in another province), my aunt was able to find us a cute little neighbourhood to call home. We stayed in the building for the rest of our time in Victoria before heading back to the mainland. So, on a whim, I decided to give my old building manager a call to see if anything was coming up and, presto, I now have my own little piece of privacy. No random roommates. No strangers waltzing in. No odd noises coming from bedrooms which share a wall with me. Just me.

I've never lived by myself before. When I first moved out of my parents' place, I moved in with a very odd, pink-haired internet junkie who was anti-social in the extreme. I lasted 2 months before moving into a very slum-like basement suite with three other university guys for the rest of the school year. K moved out here with me during my second year and we've lived together ever since (obviously, since we were married almost exactly a year after moving in together). Now, after couch and apartment jumping for 8 months, I finally have my own space. Tiny though it may be, it's something of my own.

I haven't been writing as prolifically in the past few weeks. Part of this is due to my lack of internet access (the grim reality of paying for all the bills myself prevented me from acting quickly on this front), which is no longer a problem. And part of it is a sense of numbness that has crept into my personal life for the past couple of months. It's not even numbness, really... it's... well... a declining sense of will in my hopes for what is to come in my marriage.

I've been looking for signs that things will improve. I've made requests... I've asked questions... I've prayed... I've held on. And in all this time, I've tried to be as patient as possible in waiting for responses and action in any of these requests. But I think you can only go so long without getting anything in return. And I've felt this realization creep up into my consciousness over previous weeks. The main sense is my feeling of fatigue. I just feel defeated any time I think about my relationship. And so I have, to a certain extent, given up. I haven't gone out of my way to instigate conversation, so the conversations have died. I've waited patiently since March for a response to a series of life-defining questions I posed to K, and I've received nothing but casual small talk and a total disregard for my wishes. Every inch I beg for gets ignored or rejected. So, in my defeatist sense of fatigue, I've just hid from it all.

I'm not sure where to go from here. I did send a message to K about these feelings, but I have yet to hear from her. She did reassure me that she would respond, but she also said she'd respond to the questions posed to her in March (which I brought up in April, and received another assurance that she'd respond and still has not). I just wait, as per usual. I just don't think I can wait much more. It's been over a year of waiting for, well, whatever it is I'm waiting for, and I think I've just run out of steam. I need to start focussing my energy on my own pursuits and new goals, because I simply don't have the moxie to keep up the frustrated/patient waiting around.

Through all of this, I still find time to do the things I love... run, read, spend time with friends, enjoy the streets of this beautiful city, listen to music, and just sit. There are so many good things to focus my energy on, that it's coming to the time where I need to redirect my ambitions to something fruitful. I've mentioned this on a number of occasions... there's a silver lining in everything, and I seem to keep finding it. My surgery gave me time off to spend with my mom and the time to look for a new place to live. My move gave me more opportunities to see my friends, since it was no longer a long drive to get to where they lived. And there are more opportunities to experience the silent streets at night while the sleepy darkness encapsulates the rest of the living world. And so this is where I run.

Brief rhymes

2009-05-26T23:46:00.004-07:00

It's another quiet night
Where the stars are bright
But I cannot tell
Why the moon ain't right
It's like an aeroplane
Or a flickrin' flame
And I'm starting to forget
How to whisper your name

And I find myself
Losing myself again
And I can't just mend
What you've never been
And your promises
Are just the moonlight mist
That your lips can't kiss
And my memories miss

It happens when
Your words are closing doors
And what I'm waiting for
Ain't worth fighting for
When you cannot show
What I need to grow
And have hope that you
Will find your way back home

'Cause you've long been gone
From what I'm fighting for
And when I'm wanting more
It's another empty shore
Where there ain't no tide
And you're not by my side
And it's all my strength
To find the strength inside

So I wander on
Toward the setting sun
Not knowing if you're there
Or if you're long since gone
But I struggle through
The storm you put me through
Because in the end
I'm trying to wait for you.

T

Keeping busy and returning to routines

2009-05-25T12:53:00.002-07:00

I returned to work last week after a nearly-two week hiatus for surgery. My demon appendix was removed without any major issues, and after about 2.5 weeks, I'm pretty much back to normal. I went for my first post-surgery run today for about 40 minutes and feel like a million bucks. It was maybe a bit laborious than other runs, considering I haven't run since my 1/2 marathon, but it felt good nonetheless. And when it's nearly 20 degrees, who am I to complain?

Two weekends in a row I've had family visitors out. My mom came out to visit last weekend and we were able to spend a bunch of time together. I assumed that my aunt and my mom would want to hang out more, but since I was off work, the two of us roamed around and saw some of the sights in Victoria. We made a trip out to Buchart Gardens, had lunch and ice cream at the Red Barn Market, ate some Noodle Box, and had a delicious dinner at a local Carribean joint called The Reef. Sooo good. And I just realized that most of the "events" of our weekend were based around food... funny how that works :)

I got back to work last Tuesday and survived it without any real inklings of discomfort. And then I packed my weekend full of busy-ness. Friday I hung out with a good friend and her sister, drinking some homebrew and telling obnoxious stories. Saturday held a bit of a shock with a phone call from the pub saying I was supposed to be at work (they scheduled me for the Saturday rather than Sunday for some reason), so after hustling in and slinging beer for the day, I got off work, picked up my pirate friend from his boat, hit up the grocery store and went over to his girlfriends place for an epic meal of steak and freshly caught local dungeness crab with some delicious veggies and beer on the side. Then the pirate and I abandoned his first mate and met another friend of mine at a concert for the local alternative/hard rock band The Armchair Cynics. I've seen them before, but they put on a great show and are doing their best to make it big with their new album. The new song, "Ablaze" is really solid and they sound great in concert. My good friend KR is dating one of the band members, so she is keeping me up to date on upcoming shows.

Sunday brought more good weather and a wake-up call from the pirate. He had to move his boat from Oak Bay to Cadboro Bay, so I tagged along and did a bit of sailing with him. It was a gorgeous day full of sunshine, and we had a great (albeit brief) voyage from one marina to another. After picking up our vehicles, I went and met my uncle and his fiancee for some dinner downtown and hit up a brewpub for dessert. Uncle K and I had beer for dessert, while DD chose to actually go for some lava cake. The beer was sweet enough in my books.

So, it was a pretty busy and excitement filled weekend. Today, although I'm not working, is still going to be a busy one. Now that I'm back from my run, I have to shower, have some lunch and do some running around. One of my errands consists of filling out a rental agreement with my old landlord. It's true... I'm moving again, and a lot sooner than expected. While my mom was here, she wanted to help me look around for a solo place to live (the house with friends in James Bay fell through), so on a whim I called my old landlord from when K and I first moved in together, and he just happened to have a really nice (but small) place coming up for June 1. I hemmed and hawed quite a bit, but after being disappointed with the quality of affordable housing around town, and being totally uninterested in looking around at more places, I called him up last night and I'm taking the place! It'll be much more central and familiar than where I am now, and it'll be mine. So, other than the fact that I'm paying double-rent (here and at the soon-to-be-new bachelor pad), and the fact that I have barely any furniture (K hasn't parted ways with much other than the camping gear and a bunch of stuff I had before her and I moved in together), I'm pretty excited. It's clean and pretty much everything is new, and I'll have a big patio for morning coffee and hopefully some BBQ'ing. If anyone in Vic has some used furniture they want to abandon, let me know!

Alright, a guy's gotta eat.

T