A Breath in Transition

I took a break from work today and walked down to the harbourfront. I sat on some wooden stairs, stared out at the Atlantic Ocean, and thought about my life. I thought back to the days when part of my work involved cleaning up a beach. I sat on a driftwood log back then and contemplated my life while I looked out at the Pacific Ocean. Two different coasts. Two different occupations. Two different stages in life. Yet I still wonder about the same thing: where is my life headed?

Sometimes, we all need to put our life into perspective. I did today. I only know one thing for sure: I keep coming back to the same thing time and time again. Here you go and may you enjoy.

What does it mean to live? It was not that many years ago that I thought it meant drugs and booze and partying. Back then I wanted to do nothing more than obliterate the night and sleep in until way past morning. Then one morning after a crazy night of excessive drugs and booze and partying, I woke up in a hospital bed. Things changed. I scrapped everything and started over in another country. Travel was the goal. I headed off to my next stage in life.

Some years after that stage, I thought living involved travel, challenges, excitement, daring acts of rebellion, and more drugs and booze and parties. I spent my days on a chairlift with a snowboard strapped to my feet for almost half a decade. I dropped perfectly good cliffs for fun. Life was full of debauchery and hazy memories. I lost a friend. Things changed again. I decided an education was necessary in order to progress. I scrapped everything and started over on the opposite side of the country. University was the goal. I headed off to my next stage in life.

I traveled across the country and settled down on the Canadian east coast. Books, papers, team meetings, and exams were my existence. I traveled some more. I still partied some more. There were still hazy nights and foggy memories. I lost a friend again. I traveled some more again. I saw New York, Newfoundland, Vancouver, all of the Maritimes, and stood in front of the Canadian Rockies again. I even floated in the warm waters of the Caribbean while holding a beer in my hand.

Now, I am only a mere nine courses away from the completion of my degree. I was recruited for a great job while still in school. I have an amazing and most incredible woman in my life. I am blessed with the most astounding people that I proudly call my friends. Yet…am I living?

I get up in the wee hours of morning. I shower, shave, eat and run for the bus. I work, head to the gym, eat and sleep. Get up, rinse and repeat. My life is not boring. Only boring people get bored. But it is missing that zing…that jazz. The only thing that ignites my passion is this. Writing. So, I ask my self, “Self? Why are you not working harder on publishing your book? Why would you work so hard to write it and then let it gather dust?”

I do not have that answer. It is not that I am afraid of rejection or criticism. Bah, I say to that, bah. Still my book gathers dust.

So, once again, what does it mean to live? I always ask this question when I am in transition between this life stage and the upcoming life stage. I yearn to break out of my environment and at the same time I know that it is not possible. I must wait. I must be patient. Yet I must still continue to grow. I must still continue to develop. I must still continue to live.

So now I must wait patiently for my next stage in life. Soon I will have a degree in hand and that degree will offer so many possibilities and opportunities. The options are endless: teach in Japan, work on a cruise ship, stay in Nova Scotia, head back to the west coast; the list could go on. But, yet, wait; hold on just one cotton-picking minute, just whoa daddie whoa. Stop.

Living to me is writing. Writing is my life. Yet there was no mention of being a writer in that endless list of opportunities. Have I forgotten that along my quest? Have I forgotten that my pen and thoughts have brought me to this stage in life? That indeed, my writing has brought me through all stages in life – have I forgotten that? Maybe it is because I have not placed pen to paper or fingers to keyboard in quite some time. Maybe. Maybe it is time to do so again. Maybe it is time to not only chase down that dream but also to wrangle it to the ground, truss it up and show it that I mean business. Maybe.

So, I sat on the stairs, took in the sun and all its glory, and thought about all of this. I know that time waits for no man…but would it wait for me to go after my true and only dream? Just until I graduate. Just until then. Then the world is mine to do whatever I feel to do. But I still need to live and breathe in this transition stage.

Until we meet again my friends. Until we meet again.

“If I lay here…if I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world? Forget what we’re told…before we get too old.” – Snow Patrol