I’ve been trying over and over to come up with something to write. Normally I have a lot to stay, but lately, even still with a lot to say, I can’t seem to put down what I’m feeling or thinking. That’s probably a good thing because half the time what I’m thinking could get me in a lot of shit, a quarter of the time, what I’m thinking could get me killed, and the last quarter leaves me all weepy and sad.
My past failed attempts at writing, was one entry about my trip to the dentist, and the mass production of baby chicks (actually visually disturbing as these fluffy yellow chicks ride conveyors, sortation devices, and eventually a little tote where in 20 weeks they would because egg producing machines or meet an untimely death), and the one before was about my trip to Newfoundland.
Perhaps I was a little too calm and relaxed coming back from my vacation. My mind was washed of the worry, bitterness, and problems back in Toronto. I had temporarily escaped the rat race of the big city. I cleared my head more than I could ever imagine and was left with a clean slate on my way back home. Everything in Newfoundland is at a slower pace, family comes first, and work is a little more difficult as the economy is not as developed as it is here. But it’s different when practically all of your family is there. I saw my cousins, aunts and uncles everyday, passed the time with my grandfather. I did all the things there that I wouldn’t be able to do here. I went kayaking with the whales, hiked myself to death. I walked along the rugged cliffs and rocky beaches that shape the place my father came from. And I was at peace. I would like to believe that everyone has a special place where they can feel that way because it’s instances like that where a person can really find themselves.
I did a lot of thinking while I was away and was constantly questioning what makes me happy. When I left Toronto to go back to the Rock, I was worn out and tired beyond belief. One part was my work load and another part just my personal life. I was forgetting who I was, what made me tick, and what truly made me happy. A lot of fear set in as well as I tried to understand what it was I couldn’t quite see anymore. My problem is that I’m not a person who likes change very much. I have a hard time watching things change and seeing people leave. I never get over things as easily as I should and I have a hard time learning to leave behind the negative aspects in my life. If I find myself in a comfortable spot, relationship or otherwise, I would just prefer to stay in that spot.
But if an opportunity to be happier was staring me in my face would I take it? Or would I let my fear hold me back? I rather enjoy panicking, over analyzing comments, and over reacting about events that haven’t even happened yet. When I was back in Newfoundland and spent some time on my own, I guess my biggest realization was that I have to be willing to take chances if I ever want to be happy or to get anywhere in life. The next obstacle is accepting it and acting on it.
