This blog's for ME

Almost 25 years old, asking my parents if I can sleep in their bed with them. I had thought I was going to be the 25th Prime Minister of Canada. Things had changed. 10 years later, I was still a scared little boy. The time had come to slap myself awake. One Saturday morning, November 19th, 2009, I declared to the world I would be riding my 10 year-old motorcycle from Vancouver, BC Canada to Rio de Janeiro, Brasil, and back.

The official departure was August 28th, 2010. A group of well-wishers saw me off at 8:03 am.

I arrived in Rio de Janeiro around 6 pm March 1st, 2011.

My return to Vancouver came on July 5th, 2011 about 2:00 pm.

Drug & alcohol abuse, ADD, social anxiety, health, chronic pain, night terrors.

So many concerns. But I am far more interested in this question: Do I have the capacity to make this trip despite all my shortcomings?

My mission: To inspire myself to face my fears, enlighten myself on how all living things can peacefully co-exist, enjoy every moment, and see the world as plentiful and generous.

Go ahead. Call me crazy. Call me anything you like.

I'm out to save my world.


Questions, comments, concerns, threats? Contact me:

Dealing With The Truth

After several attempts at carrying on a normal, non-evasive, guy-talk conversation, my friend Barry* and I relegated ourselves to a number of topics loosely based on the meaning of life. More specifically, we talked about what it takes to know the truth about something, and still be able to involve yourself in the situation.
For instance, knowing that the harder you work, the more money your boss, or your company makes from you. Sure, you will often make a bit more yourself, but it's the people above you that make the sizeable returns on your efforts. The higher you go up the food chain, the higher margin you make on the people below you. Now, most people seem to be ok with that, and the ones that don't either quit, start their own business, or stay, finding ways to ignore this commonly accepted knowledge. Non-profit organizations often have boards of directors, who make several thousand dollars for their time and opinions. We accept this as a part of doing business too. If I was the top dog, would I be worried about this? No, not at all. I would justify it somehow. Is it mostly the people at the bottom of the food chain that complain about it? Yes. The reality is, it takes a tremendous amount of work to build a successful company, and if you're not into the work it takes to create it, you have got to work for them. The business is impersonal, with one motive: profit. Anything that undermines profit, must be taken out of the game. It could be argued that most high-profile assassinations happen to those who are a threat to an establishment of some sort. From JFK to Abraham Lincoln, to gang-style murders in Surrey, anyone seen as a menace to the bottom line runs the risk of termination.
What about the Twin Towers collapsing like a perfectly planned demolition, with explosions happening on each floor, and the sound of a bomb going off in the parkade level? The management of the buildings affected were familially linked to George Bush, who, upon hearing the news of the attack, barely raised an eyebrow. It is not my intention to discuss conspiracy theories, as I feel, although interesting, only frustrates me and causes mistrust of my fellow man. I accept people are capable of anything. End of story.
I had also mentioned to him the study completed on suburban competition referred to in Psychology Today. Most individuals, when polled, said they would be happier making $50,000 per year and their neighbour making $40,000 per year, than making $100,000 per year, and their neighbour making $110,000. This hyper-competitiveness rules us, but it doesn't have to. Ask yourself what's really important in your life, and consider that if you have a roof over your head, food on the table, and do not live in fear of being killed every day, you are in the top 10% of people in the world. Just earlier I had received an email from another friend who sends me a wide variety of videos, and pictures that are meant to surprise and shock you. One such attachment involved about 20 women who had received such enormous breast implants that they resembled a couple beach balls. Being a breast man, I can't help but be strangely attracted to some of them. On the other hand, I can't stop thinking about not only why someone would do this, but where that time, money, and energy could be spent. I'm fully aware of the judgement being passed here, and there is no space for that. I simply want to understand, especially when there is so much pain, suffering and disaster out there that could be lessened somehow by a healing hand. Is it due to the same hyper-competitive human trait that we all share?

*Name changed

No comments:

Post a Comment

Videos of my journey