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:

The Waiting Game

Waiting really is a game, isn't it? The players who make life a game are the ones who always win, one way or another. I loved playing games as a child, eerything from board games, to cards, to jumping around on the bales and Lone Ranger with real horses. Suddenly, when I started struggling internally early on in my professional life, the games stopped. Perhaps I thought they had to for me to be successful but this attitude adversely affected my ability to get the juice out of my life required to slog through the frustrating bits.

The only thing available for people wanting to make a difference in their lives, and have extraordinary lives is a good mentor, or several of them. Current educational systems are lacking, and parents are too busy with their own lives. Everyone seems to be out hanging by a thread trying to figure it out from scratch. An entire lifetime can be swept away like a riptide.

I was fortunate to have a lot of people in my life that I could use as guidance, but in the end, it is truly an inner journey I had to undertake if I truly wanted to create a life of my own. It just seems too far away now to do what others are doing, doing it the way one should. Too much pain, suffering and struggle to throw it all away and plug back into the matrix. So what now?

Well, (a fitting word considering the depth of the personal challenge) gcontinuing the journey of feeling uncomfortable, and trusting it will all work out. The waiting game - make the most of it, and enjoy the experience. Practice talking to that gorgeous woman over there. Make an effort. Don't stop. And do stop! for breaks, for surfing, but there really isn't any need to go anywhere. They're just distractions. My body is tired, and I don't sleep that well with bugs biting, crabs crawling, dogs barking and monkeys howling. But I will never forget a friend's advice years ago. "Feel the ground, and feel grounded. You are exactly where you need to be right now."

And now a word from our sponsor, "ADD works!:"A mars bar a day at work rest and play!" A friend gently shared an observation that my fb post about toenail painting was not duly recorded here, so here goes.......

Back on the boat from Columbia to Panama, an Aussie girl was wearing what seemed a dark purple (black) toenail polish and I thought "if I was ever going to wear nailpolish that would be the color and this would be the time", but she didn't have any with her, so I marked that up as a 'someday' proposition. The next store I was at on the mainland found me in the cosmetic aisle eyeing up a bottle of purple nail polish. It was only a $1. It was thrown in a bag and forgotten about for a couple days.

Some downtime required some distraction, so out came the bottle of violet nailpolish. It would dry darker I was certain. When I applied it carefully, which in my case meant half on my nail the other half on my toe, the colour was much closer to a bright violet than dark purple, and it stayed that way.

It was really just an exercise in practicing being comfortable with people's glances and remarks, in the belief that it would help me to continue saying what I want, and being who I want to be. I experienced the urge of wanting to hide them up, and thinking of the two girls here, one with an arm defect, the other missing a hand, who would have a hard time covering that up. Probably the most difficult was a dutch guy who I noticed was looking at my toes, and asked his opinion. He gave that scrunched up face and his voice wavered, contradicting his words of "hey, man I don't judge everyone is entitled to do what they want."

Our defects, our mistakes, our problems and our less-than-perfect moments, scrambling to cover them up and hide the evidence. Now, I simply don't have the energy or care. It is the same when someone 'let's themselves go'; it's just easier to ignore the ego's cries of 'I'm not looking good here and I will be rejected' than to go through the effort of putting up appearances. It's easy to say 'I don't care what other people think'. There must be some effort made to keep up appearances; we're designed to feel good if we look good and fit in. Where the distinction must be made is in matters of opinion, religion, 'group-think', and other group forming natural behaviours of humans that should be taken with some salt, and personal differences defended and debated. In the end, noone really cares what we do in the long run, except us. It becomes a cheap excuse to blame others for our failures in living true to our own vision. Sometimes our lives have to become a complete nuclear waste site before we have the impetus to change.

Even then, we may just feel the urge to lay down in that toxic slick and have a nap.

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