The Journey Continues

It’s hard to fathom that it has almost been a month since I last wrote. Time slips quietly through my fingers. We try so hard to grow up when we are young, and then as we age, we do everything we can to slow that process. Alas she tarries for no one.

Since last my fingers danced on the keyboard, it seems like much has happened. A trip to Victoria was made, where I spent some quality time with old friends, new friends, beaches, little mountains, inspiring some writing of poetry (which surprised even me). Came home from that trip with some Island Pinot, and a new painting by Terry Fenton called “Awakenings” (I kid you not!) which is the header of this post. Something about that sunrise over the prairies spoke to me, and it now hangs in our living room as a reminder of this journey that I am on.

In the last month, I have also had the chance to visit my psychologist a few more times. We have been doing some therapy called EMDR which has been interesting. To be honest, I am not sure what impact that this therapy is having on me? What I am learning in the process is that I am a very “cerebral” person, and have spent most of my life in my head. If nothing else, the EMDR therapy is forcing me to pay attention to the rest of my body, and get curious about what it is trying to communicate along the way.

Walking continues to be one of the most significant new things in my life. Spending time outside every day, walking Charlie, listening to books (mostly Brené Brown) but also a little fiction now too by Gene Wolfe which has been something of an awakening as well.

And (despite Brené’s numbing label) I am also on a drinking journey. I have been discovering all of these amazing new natural wines which has been a lot of fun. The drinking journey has been pretty selfish for the most part (I have shared a little with a few) which perhaps is how I like it when it comes to wine, most of the time.

So perchance, in all of this, I am becoming more human? Seems an odd question, but appropriate nonetheless. Still in all of this, I continue to journey into a place, unknown. Like Abraham, I am on a path towards a destination unknown, and frankly, an outcome that remains hidden to me. I am slowly starting to relish the notion of getting comfortable in my not belonging, but perhaps belonging everywhere? I am trying to do what Maya Angelou counsels

Open your eyes to the beauty around you, open your mind to the wonders of life, open your heart to those who love you, and always be true to yourself.

I want to drink in more of what she writes, more of what so many others have written, and lived, and try and figure out how it can make me more human. And so I wrestle with my doubts, my anger, my aloneness, my wealth, my privilege, my poverty…

I think what I want more than anything is to be content, content with all of my frailty, all of my questions, all of my shortcomings, all of my strengths, content with me, content in my own skin. I want to be free of the impact of other’s expectations both real and perceived. I want to be free to laugh and cry, swear, and dance, none of which I am very good at right now (OK I am pretty good at swearing).

I am also slowly realizing that I have been trapped by my past. I am starting to see that my experience of community during my time at the U of L has in many ways, robbed me of an ability to truly enter into meaningful community in the present. My time in Lethbridge was a gift, but in a strange way it was a cruel gift, which created an expectation in my mind which has never since been replicated. And if I am honest with myself, it probably wasn’t as good as I remember it either, knowing now how unreliable our memories are, and how prone we as humans are to manufacturing our own personal history.

So while I have no idea where I am headed, or what I will look like when I get there, or whether I will ever get there, I know this. I want to live my life on purpose. I want there to be purpose in all that I do. I want to drink, eat, converse, walk, work, play, relate on purpose. And perhaps, if I can live in the knowledge and confidence that PURPOSE is at my core, then perhaps, I can finally settle into that place wherever it is, a place named content.