Where to place my feet?

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.

T

A day set aside

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.

T

* (Something cheeky was necessary.)

A note on transition, and words from December

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

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...

T

Extensions

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

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

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.

T

New album I'm listening to...

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.

T

Trying

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

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

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

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

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.

T

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

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

I can only hope.

T

(Lyrics c/o Grace Potter and the Nocturnals)

As life changes

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.

T

Thinking (One of those days)

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.

T

Happy Bachelor(ette)'s Day

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!

T

Wake up call

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! 

T

Streetside experiences

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. 

T

This is China

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…

T

Been a while...

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

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

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

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

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

"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

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

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.

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

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.

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

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"...

T

The only

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.

T

Running with the shadows

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.

T

Brief rhymes

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

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

What a week can bring

I often joke with friends and acquaintances that I lead a pretty boring adult life. I'm no longer a partier or much of a late-night boozer. I'm not one to set sights on a crazy trip to Vegas or a nutty road trip to the bush to get rowdy. I like to think my life is a good sort of calm. And although I've faced some hardships, I do my best to keep tabs on pessimism and find the light in the middle of the dark, cloudy days. You know... days with ravens and owls and black-caped men lingering in the fog.

This last week has been a different sort of ridiculous. And in so many ways, I've just had to laugh it off. There are powers out there that I'll never understand, and I can't help but wonder if there's a cosmic chalkboard tallying up, well, something to create some sort of balance. And I'm wondering exactly how that chalkboard is tallied. Because it's been a crazy few days.

Just over a week ago, I posted an entry where I was obviously jaded about the state of my relationship. Now, I can't say that I'm overly optimistic, but I still hold on to hope that things can find a way to mend. That's a long road that I'm walking, but it's one that I'm still willing to walk. Lately, this blog has been a release of all the anxious frustration and desperate longing I've felt for the woman who I gave my heart to (and still do so in a much more silent way). So I'm hanging in there. Last week was a bad encounter, and I was hurt by it. But as with everything, one must move on.

The day after the encounter, I ran my first half-marathon. It was a goal I'd had in mind for almost a year, and had been working toward for months. I trained and prepared completely on my own. I ran my miles solitary without anyone pushing me or giving me advice or helping me through the minutes where I just wanted to stop the pursuit all together. No one kicked me out of bed or reminded me of the importance of my long runs. I didn't grab on to anyone to hold me up when I had the urge to sit. And although I didn't train like a professional and I know that more work could've been done, I persevered and accomplished my goal on my own. And damn, it felt good. I spent the rest of my visit to the big city eating and catching up with friends and relishing in my feeling of self-satisfaction... this was something I did without a running clinic or a partner or a trainer... just me and the road. And I have to say I'm pretty proud of that. Funny how quickly the tables turn, from bitterness to triumph in two totally separate aspects of life.

The return back to the island was a smooth one, and I was quickly back at work. However, it seems like it couldn't last.

I ended up in the hospital last week and had surgery the same day. That was Thursday... I had just returned to the rock on Monday. Who would've guessed?

It turns out that when you feel like you have indigestion or food poisoning but you don't vomit or have diarrhea (and the pain stays localized to your right lower abdomen), you might have appendicitis. Which is what I had. I started feeling like rubbish on Wednesday night, and after trying to eat something, then trying some antacids at about 10:30pm, and then tossing and turning all night before going to the nearby Macs store for some pepto at 5:30 in the morning and STILL feeling like my gut wanted to kill me, I decided that I should probably go to the clinic. This turned out to be a bit fruitless, since the walk-in GP assumed food poisoning or possible appendicitis. His suggestion: sleep it off and it should get better, but if it gets worse, go to the ER. But after getting home and checking the expiration dates of the food in the fridge, and reassessing my pain and checking symptoms of food poisoning vs. appendicitis, I grabbed some books and my IPod and headed to the ER an hour after leaving the doc's office.

I got there about 11am, and at 11pm that same day, I was lying on a surgical table in the OR and was uncomfortably waiting to be knocked out. They removed the alien appendix that was causing all the muss and fuss, and here I am today, sitting on my backside, taking it easy. I actually went back to the ER for about 6 hours yesterday because of a new and brutal pain I had the previous night, but it turns out that my aversion to pain killers is what caused the extra pain... I weaned myself from my Every-4-hour-tylenol-ingestion within 2 days and was trying to go sans-drogues. That and my quick return to my regular food habits caused some irritation around the internal surgical site and I just needed to take some more tylenol. It's just that easy I guess!

So, 5 days post-surgery and I'm sitting on my ass, watching a whole craploap of TV (or, in reality, multiple TV series on DVD), and trying not to move around too much. I should be at work (although I'm not sad about being away from work, I hate just sitting around for any length of time), and I want to go for a run. But sit I will, because I'm willing to override my stubborness to get better in a more timely fashion.

Oh... and I was even able to do a bit of a good deed for a cousin of a brother-in-law that I'd never met, and was lucky enough to do so with the help of a fantastic friend.

So this is how my life goes. And there's still light. And laughter. I do just laugh at the comedy of errors that seems to present itself in this tale of tragedy and woe. It's not all clouds and darkness... sometimes it's triumphs in between the lows, and cookies and popsicles from friends, and relatives who take you in when you've got three holes in your guts, and well-wishes, and upcoming visits from parents, and the knowledge that I kicked just a little bit of ass in my first 1/2 marathon (the next one will be significantly faster). And words from the girl I still love, even if we're still a million miles apart.

T

Do I...

... run through hell and hope the devil doesn't catch me
Or do I simply let it wrap it's flaming hands around me
Can I keep up the running with fire upon my back
And can I keep on moving forward to avoid the eternal black

***

When I wrote those lines, I had a country song in my head. Yes, a country song. I don't have the slightest clue who sings it, even though it would only take a perusal of my ITunes or a google search to locate the tidbit, but since I'm mentally and emotionally exhausted, I can't be bothered. It sings, "If you're going through hell, keep on going. Don't slow down... you might get out before the devil even knows you're there." Or something near that. And today, I feel like I'm going through hell. It's really just been one of the most miserable days I've had to deal with in quite a long time. Even the good stuff had it's downside. I just need sleep.

To K...

Is it ever going to be even slightly easy again? I'm so tired of being kicked and trod upon that I just don't know what to do anymore. Or even if I should care. I'm just exhausted. And I keep looking for signs from you to show me that maybe I have this all wrong... but I never get that omen. Just ravens and owls and black-caped men lingering in the fog.

T

Sunday night rhythms

I had a dream that the symmetry
And these painted scenes and these colours schemes
Would inspire a sense of sympathy
And return things to what they used to be

The strange thing is, that this inspiration
Had too little time to reach maturation
When fifty six minutes was nothing more
Than fleeting smoke at a long-dead celebration

I've packed it all up in these small cardboard cases
In newspaper wrapping, and into compact spaces
Taped up the corners and gone through the paces
To hide all the hurt that appears on our faces

We're a canyon apart... but a cloud close together
And little is left but to discuss the weather
We once lived as if we were birds of a feather
But only I remain, a lone bird in the heather

I guess that it's time that you assert that you're freed
From the shackles of us, and the burdens, and the need
You have all you want, so please, take the lead
And take on all the feathers of the bird that you see.

On I will shuffle, slowly I'll go...
What the journey will look like, it's too soon to know.
What I hope for at the end of this ebb and this flow
Is that you find some beauty in the scars that I show.

T

No title

There's been times I've medicated myself
Against the cold and against the quiet
To make the sleep come more quickly,
When I'm trying my best to hide it.
But when I slip into that bed
I know the truth remains...
The quiet is what will stay the same
Until you've finally decided.

I've heard you say that you don't like
This darker side of me.
Is there another way which I can turn
Which will satisfy or appease?
I thought that honesty was best
When trying to face the day.
But in turn you turn yourself inward
And push me further away.

You saying you're trying, darling,
But have you given me a chance?
Or have you simply found a new cocoon,
A place to call your nest?
It seems like you've just insulated you
Against all that we used to be
In order to find yourself a new,
More exciting way to see.

All of your decisions,
Well, baby, they keep hurting me,
Even as I attempt to recall
How I used to love you tenderly.
You're seeking new ways to prove
That you can do it on your own
But in this attempt to prove yourself,
You've left me all alone.

I wonder if there's even a chance
That you'll finally find a way
To compromise and find me
With you at the end of the day.
Every day you put us off
Is another day I believe
That you're giving up all we had
And all we pledged to believe.

My love, when did you give up on
The promise of you and me?

T