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:

A Plus B Equals

The night had a couple weird and awkward interactions with some gringos, and it took all my strength to stay centred, made all the harder after drinks at Jack´s, La Pearla (father son luxury hotel where I watched the Canucks win 1 to 0), Olla Que Mada, and another place I cant remember.

I woke up this morning with disgust at having gotten drunk again.

It may have been the first time in my life that a hangover was exactly what I needed. It was about 830 am. After laying back down following a much needed pee, I knew I wasnt going to sleep again. Another bladder infection (not caused by anything nefarious I am an angel you know) has made the pees particularly painful. I felt the need to share that with someone in case you know how to cure it.

Assured of some kind of night time talking, and subsequent guilt and embarrassment, I jumped out of bed with a bleary eyed determination. That bike, and everything around it was indeed my life, and it required my due diligence and attention. I think it was me that was holding on staying in Nicaragua, not the bike. I had to take full responsibility for me being here still.

In a hurry to go nowhere, rapidly flashing from thing to thing creating destruction along my path, my pattern during times of stress has been like a nuclear bomb from time to time. That wasnt going to work today.

With JB weld tubes in hand, I walked determinedly down the 10 blocks to the mechanic, after a surprisingly perfect breakfast. (I havent been a pancake fan since I was a child but this time, I think it sopped up the booze a bit) As I approached the shop, I saw Marlon Jr. under the bike. He didnt look up, replying only with ´working´when I asked him what he was doing.

Things continued to improve throughout the morning.

Once I let go of how it was supposed to be, or how it was supposed to look, I relaxed, and everything around me began to shift. Starting with the JB weld (which I had strangely hoarded from the mechanic because I was not sure how to use it duh its simple!), which Marlon Jr. started to mix and apply. His father and him slowly and surely worked through the brake problem, and put the bike back together.

I thought hell why dont we get the seat fixed while were at it? Marlon Sr. was off to the welder and back in 30 minutes with it, fitting perfectly strong back into the chassis. (My seat has been held on only with one bolt in the back for 5 months or so) I took the tape off the two side lights and repaired them proper, as well as redid my blog address that was on the back of the orange cooler, faded dramatically since September.

I guess its strange and sad also at how long I have been waiting for some kind of answer to life. I finally got what I needed. It is this: A plus B Equals Whatever. What this means to me is that as long as I live my life with effort, and care, and attention, my life will turn out fine. It might not look how I want it to always, but as long as I am doing my work, I can live with ease, not dis-ease.

Its been a lifetime of worry since I became conscious of myself existing, around age 5, and recorded memory. My first day at kindergarten was a disaster when, according to my mother, I clung so tenaciously to her leg, (wailing like a wounded animal knowing my child within) that the administrators suggested she wait another year, and try again.

Whats going to happen? Can I handle it? Am I going to be ok? I learned to cope by avoiding my life, and waiting for the right conditions. The problem was the conditions never came. I just simply didnt trust myself to do the right thing...... and how could have I when I had created such an impossible standard for myself to live up to? I expected myself to be able to say exactly what the other person wanted to hear, so that they would be happy, and give me back some sort of happy feeling.

Well, I can just transcend that whole weird equation, and keep it square and centre. Imagine a life, Jason, where you dont have to apologize for who you are anymore. You dont have to apologize for what you say, you can live peacefully with however people react to what I say. Because you know what? I know the truth, and if you cant handle it, thats not my problem. I am not speaking it to hurt you, I am speaking it to release it from my own mind. It is too heavy for me to hold in.

I never want to hurt anyone, I grant you that. And I know I can be harsh when I let it fly. I really do. But you will like being around me, for the most part. And I will like being around you. Even if we have things that bother us, we can get along. That being said, theres nothing wrong with surrounding myself with people that I feel free around.

I will let Patty Smyth, and Scandal communicate my sentiments of Nicaragua.....

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