Like all things in life there are highs and lows, it is unavoidable, a guaranteed byproduct of living. These words were written on Thanks Giving, a day that signifies gratitude of the blessing of harvest. It's not very often that we are thankful and I am no exception. Although, I am pretty much alone in Saskatchewan and adjusting to a new way of life, there is an upside. Well I won't go into it now but I will say I have been pretty home sick in the last couple of months and been at odds with myself. But as ridiculous as this may sound it dawned on me that I'm an imperfect being and susceptible to moments of low morale.
Now don't go laying me in a couch and asking about my childhood just yet, I'm just sharing something that we've all been through. But there are times when we fail to realize the most obvious of things in our most cloudy of moments; this is, putting our life into perspective. Take from this what you will, but about two years ago I laid in bed and wrote out my thoughts. It turned into somewhat of a poem, that's the best way I can describe it. There was no format, no stanzas or intricate cipher but it was rather an outlet of emotion. I came across this compilation of paragraphs a few days ago and thought I'd share a bit with you. I believe my words are clear, but I still know interpretation will play a role as you read. Think of your highest and lowest points in your life and compare them when you are finished reading this column. Think about the pain and happiness that you felt at the time and how that moment impacted your life. Do you still consider those moments' a prerequisite to how you live your life now? My thing is, I try and don't forget them, yes, we all remember those times but how much do we really take with us in living.
The following was written on Sunday, Sep. 4, 2011 and at the time I felt similar to how I'm feeling now. But reading it again has provoked new thought, which I find comforting.
"Is it aged in the cellars beneath the hills of Bordeauxor intricately hand crafted from a mind with an unparalleled zeal for perfection, what's your end product? Is it the laughter of children that somehow caresses your heart upon each beat or is it the ultimate sacrifice of self? Choose your end product wisely, be casted by a spell of your own doing but let it not be filled with loathing or envy but with the willing choice of virtue. I lay not suspended within these metropolitan towers with no prize within heart or soul but rather ascending day by day, giving now and forever, for I know my end is near, my end is robust and true."
"I implore that you be just with your end product, for many have seen the second childhood in regret and shame. Both are inevitable deep wounds that we must all tend, but allow the wounds to be battle scars of pride and wisdom. Be not worried of the tools needed or the ingredients missing, for ingenuity is granted to all and attainable as easy as the morning air."
"The lights, a myriad of beautiful women and the enticing, amplified urban lifestyle are only side street stalls on a narrowing road. Vendors beckon and beg for my slightest attention. Unwavered by the cacophony of chatter and blaring horns Yonge Street rests in the comfort of my bosom. I know my end and the clarity towards the path is calming. The calm is familiar; it last entered my mind five years ago . . ."
"The end you say, I say the beginning for then and only then that I, you, and we are able to move deeper into the ravages of the world's being. I die for the end."
