Balancing the scales...

This is a new format I am entering into, here on my website that the generous souls at blogger so graciously supplied me free of charge. It has been done by other bloggers, but for me it is new territory...it is just that my postings seem to be getting longer, yet I still have so much to say, and only so much space to say it. So, my next series of writings will be separated into consecutive postings, with the new ones picking up where the old ones leave off. I am hoping to tickle your funny bones, captivate your senses, and make your mind stray from its normal deviant course. Here you go, and may you enjoy...

I spent last night hanging out on a beach, sitting in front of a campfire, walking on hard sands, and, of course, chasing waves. It was a spontaneous decision made by me and my friend, Rob, who finally got his van on up and running, and wanted to make the first road trip of the summer. We collaborated our thought-processes, grabbed some wood, kindling, paper for burning, and some snacks for the trip. A half hour later found us languishing in front a roasting fire, smiles on our faces, and stories tumbling from our mouths. There I stood, in front of the Atlantic Ocean, so powerful and angry in its own right, and it reminded me of a time when I stood on another beach.

On the West Coast of Canada, located on the Northeastern side of Vancouver Island, is a little paradise called Tofino. It is also as far as you can go in our country, for it is bordered on the Pacific Rim - the other side of that rim is Japan. I lived there a few summers ago, and events occurred there that would change my life in ways I could never have conceived, but the Island has always seemed to do that to me. Here is my main point though...the Ocean, whether East or West, North or South, Indian or Artic, has a hold on us humans in a way none of us can understand. It is a forever-flowing, ebbing, and tossing world of secrets. How many have stood before it and hurled their worries into the waves? Have walked away, feeling a just a little bit lighter, and a sense of calm running through their veins? How could you stand before a power as such and give away to past angst or pain? In my mind, it is not possible...for all those who sit behind a desk and fret about their mundane existence, I have only one thing to say: head west, man, head west. A brand new world awaits.

So, here is my point about that whole tangent...it is a matter of choice, people. In one hand, you have responsibility to yourself, and in the other, you have blame. Blaming another for where you are because they made a decision that effected your life. When all you have to do is look in the mirror and realize it all comes down to you. You don't like where you are? Then change your surroundings, deconstruct your comfort zones until they are so expansive that you are always comfortable no matter where you turn your head. Not comfortable in your own skin? Spurn the old, dig deep into your internal, find that which brings dis-ease into your soul, and understand its purpose. Then stand back, feel the scales of old fall to the wayside, and look down upon your new body; fresh and ready to take on the world. It is not like I am just saying this to see my own words, people, I say it because I have lived it, and still am. Sure, I might not have a mortgage, a wife or children, but I do have friends and family that I have left behind numerous times that are too many to count...but, once again, whose life are you living this for, anyway? Theirs? Or for yourself?

So, for now, here is where I take my leave, but I do depart with a question...if you had accountability in one hand, and accusation in the other, which one would you choose? Which of the two would allow you to wake in the morning and look yourself in the eye without guilt? It all comes down to the mad-ass balancing act of managing the scales, right? Right. Until we meet again, people, until we meet again.

"I was taught very early that I would have to depend entirely upon myself; that my future lay in my own hands." - Darius Ogden Mills