How Does It Feel To Burn?

I’m full. Overfull, in fact… I feel as if I contain every emotion that it’s possible to feel, all at the same time. I’ve spent a lot of the last day or so in a free hotel room, writing and journaling and moving with some concentration to make some kind of relative sense out of everything that’s happening, has happened, and is about to happen.

It’s Been a While

Sorry.

Here’s what’s up:

I’m without a job right now, and I’m just about to head down Commercial Drive to canvass the local cafés for work. I only need two or three days a week to cover everything, and really that’s all I need and want, so hopefully it won’t be too difficult. I’ve also signed-up at an office temping agency, so hopefully that will yield a few days work.

Without boring you with too much detail, things in Vancouver (as far as the basics like accommodation and employment go) have not been very successful, ever since I arrived in September last year. It feels like I’m constantly trying to dig sideways and clear a path up to solid ground, and every few feet I get shoved deeper into this hole. In sum, it seems like Vancouver and I are just not resonating very well with each other, at this point in time. I am, simply, not feeling settled at all.

It’s not all bullshit, though—not by any stretch. I have made some amazing friends, plus I’ve been spending quite a lot of high-quality time with an intelligent, gorgeous and delightful woman, who, brilliantly, is named Randi. And, this continuous ‘digging’ has also led me into yet another re-evaluation of where I’m going and what I’m doing with my Life; basically, after feeling kind of stagnant for the last few months, I am once again feeling re-invigorated. Again, without boring you with the introspective details of how I got here, let me break it down for you…

[Cue thoughtful background string music, with montage of biological cellular growth and division]

I Weep

Today is Remembrance Day in the USA and Canada, including where I now live in Vancouver. The day is a holiday in most of the country, allowing time and space for us to reflect upon the sacrifices of those fallen in battle during World Wars I and II, and other conflicts in recent history. Today is Armistice Day, the date in 1918 when war was declared to be over in Europe, heralding the close of four years of ceaseless killing of young men in muddy trenches.

This morning, along with a few friends, I attended the public service given in Vancouver’s Victory Square, where the city’s cenotaph stands.

In New Zealand, where I’m from, we take the 25th of April every year—ANZAC Day—as our day of remembrance. It marks the day in 1915 when Australian and New Zealand Army Corps forces were landed at Gallipoli, in the Dardanelles of Turkey, and suffered horrific losses in a catastrophic tactical blunder, before finally being evacuated later that year.

There are a couple of things that never fail to squeeze a few tears out of me. Human triumph against all odds or conventionality is one; the other is the sadness elicited within me by our loss of human life in armed conflict.

Neither Remembrance Day nor ANZAC Day are occasions to glorify war and death; they are times to cease fire, reflect, and remember the dead, and the reasons why we have, in their thousands upon thousands, sent them to die.

Oceans and Beaches

I gave myself another session of lying with myself and stilling one morning last week. Once I’d settled sufficiently, I began a visualisation. It’s a visualisation that I’ve made before, and while I had been familiar with how it goes, it’s been many years since I made it, and this time it was different. It diverged from the usual course and took a new path right near the beginning, and I recognised that many things in and about me have evolved and changed since all those years ago. So I allowed it to take this new course, based on who I am now. It flowed instinctively, naturally, along pathways that seemed to have their own direction; and yet I know that they come from within me. This was my subconscious coming up towards the surface again, and showing me things.

This experience generated a number of new and further realisations & awakenings for me.

fff

In my visualisation, as it had been before when I’d made it, I stand before a door. I am a being of glowing energy, the Life Energy that we all possess. The door hums and glows with active energy. Behind the door is My Life, containing my Self in all my facets and character traits, both conscious and subconscious; all my relationships; the images of people that I carry with me; my hopes, my fears, my emotions, my philosophies; and my image of the Universe. It is My World.

Cycles, Part I: Reflections

I was having a conversation with my friend Haley the other day. I noted how everything is cyclic; things repeat and reflect each other and themselves in many ways. It’s never the same cycle twice—time always carries things forwards, like a wheel rolling down a hill—and things often come back around.

We see similarities around us every day. Flowers of the same species all look similar, days look similar, oil paintings are all composed of oil paint. Still, each flower, day and painting is individual and recognisable; reflections of the others.

People reflect each other as well, and I was thinking about that yesterday morning on my way in to work.

Seen, Done, Been

I’ve had it said to me a few times, with incredulous expressions, “cripes! You’ve done everything!”

Of course, it doesn’t feel that way to me. One life, it seems, is not enough… there is too much to learn; too much to experience and become. It gets overwhelming sometimes, thinking about the uncountable things that I want, sometimes desperately, to do or achieve within my time here. We all search for Meaning in  our lives, but for me I see so much Potential, so many options that, now and then, it freaks me out a little.

It’s one of the prime motivators for me to Go Places and Do Things, and for me to put so much effort into analysing and understanding everything that happens. It’s why I crave questions and fervently seek their answers. It’s why I often find myself heaped-over with projects and commitments — because I see something that looks interesting, challenging, fun, rewarding— and immediately I want to do it, to feel it, to be it. Often I find myself in too deep too quickly, and I balk. Other times I’m frustrated and bored because I end up committed to something that isn’t as rewarding as I’d hoped. And (probably too) often I notice something that quite simply Needs Doing, and my overdeveloped sense of responsibility kicks in; but that’s not really the best reason to do something, now, is it?

With my recent acknowledgement of What I Want To Do With My Life, I’ve begun to wonder if there really is as much of a pattern to my journey so far as I want to believe. So, here’s the list of all the things I’ve seen, and done, and been. See what you can make out: