A New Year...

   And so it begins. Another 365 days, 360 days now, to make false promises to ourselves, and then spoon feed ourselves large quantities of guilt when we fail to keep these promises.
I have decided this year that I shall forgo the bullshit and will make no New Year's resolutions. Why should I lie to myself for another year, promising myself that I will make that effort to go to the gym every day and eat healthy and flavourless fibre-filled foods, only to end up in a puddle of self pity by mid-April clutching a tub of chocolate Haagen-Dazs ice cream?
 This year I am making no resolutions, no promises, nothing that I can label as a commitment that I will feel self pity for if it falls through. Instead, every weekday morning I will get up before it is completely necessary for me to do so and will go for a run, or head to the gym for an hour or so. I will eat less junk food and more carrots, but will not cut those delicious fats out of my diet completely. I will choose to go for a walk with my boyfriend over watching that one more episode of a really good tv show. And by mid-April I will stand in the middle of my puddle of pity, radiant, naked and full of self love. Damn, I will look good.
 And I will not beat myself up if I miss a day of exercise, or eat that half a pint of creamy goodness on a weekend with the girls. It's not a promise or a commitment to eat healthier or exercise, there is no resolution here, so I'm not breaking a promise or commitment if I forget one day or indulge another. I am choosing, however, to live a slightly healthier lifestyle. One with more physical exercise, healthier food choices and absolutely no self pity.
I haven't promised myself I will be healthier for each of the 365 days, so I can't feel bad if I am not healthy one day and feel like I've broken my promise, because there was no promise. I will, however, most likely end up with no self pity as a result, or at least less self pity. I now have rubber boots for those puddles.
 And in the end, isn't that better than any New Year's resolution?

Love?

How do you know if you're in love?

According to the film maker of "One Week", if you have to ask then you're not. I would like to know, though, if this includes the many times you ask yourself if you're really in love with a person or if it's worth it when the going gets rough. It seems to be human nature to question everything we do or say after the age of 7, why is love the exception? And when it comes to love should we follow our hearts or our heads?

What if there is a person that makes you happy, most of the time, and when your heart doesn't skip that beat when you look at them your head starts to question what you are doing with them. You might miss them when you go away, but wish for a more startling spark when with them. Does this mean that there is no love or are we just searching for something that doesn't exist and ignoring the fact that the reason you miss the person when away is because you love them?

Are we looking for a love that is unattainable?

Perhaps Disney is blame for this with his tales of princesses and white knights. So instead of blaming your significant other (which in itself is a horrible turn of phrase that places someone on an unreachable pedestal) when it seems that the 'spark' has gone out, let's lay blame where blame is deserved.

Let Disney create the theme parks and let the rest of us create the love stories.

Dreams into Reality

"To sleep, perchance to dream..." -Shakespeare, Hamlet.

What happens if you cease to dream? What if one day you wake up and come to the realization that every single dream you have ever had has vanished. You wanted to be a medical examiner, a storm chaser, a detective, a chef, a bakery owner, a musician, own a record label, a novelist, a world traveler... and then suddenly you realize you don't know what you want. Have you ever?

My head was always full of different ideas about what I wanted out of life and how I was going to achieve them. Then one day I was forced to re-examine my life. I had thought that what I wanted was to own my own business, make a name for myself in some small way, move to an interesting country, learn a new language and then fall in love. I never wanted a family or marriage or to settle for anything. Then it happened. I fell in love too soon.

My world was turned on its head and I didn't know what to do. This didn't fit the plan. I still want to write a novel and own my own business and travel and learn a new language in my new country and play music in my spare time. Then why do I now feel as though all my passions are gone? Why do I not feel passionate about any one thing and feel as though I am settling?

I am not saying that I am settling for who I have chosen to share a portion of my life with. I don't even know what length of my life will be shared with this person as he does not know himself. On the contrary, I feel happy that I have found a person that I would even consider sharing a part of myself with. Then why do I feel the settling?

I think I know what I want, it's what I've always wanted, so is this why I feel like I am settling? I feel like because my dreaming has come to a stand still so has my life?

Maybe in a small sense it has. To live is to dream. It is our imaginations that give our life its breath. What happens when you cease to dream? I can honestly say, I don't know. I will just have to try and find a way to get life back into my dreams. I don't know how I will accomplish this yet, or what new things I will have to try before I realize whether I still hold the same passions for my dreams. Either way, I hope, I know, in time I will re-imagine, re-discover, or find new dreams. My imagination is not dead just because my life has skipped ten steps ahead in my plan, and I am not settling no matter how I may feel at the time. If I don't do anything about it and stop dreaming altogether then I am settling.

I am settling for death of dreams over life of imagination, and that is something that I refuse to do.

Eternal Struggle

Like the butterfly emerging from the crysalis, we all eventually change. Whether it is in looks, personality, ambitions or feelings we all inevitably move away from being the caterpillar.

However, transformation does not come without struggle and sometimes we do not know what to make of change, or know if we even want to pursue it.

How can a person be so sure of themselves and what they want one day and then be stuck at a crossroads the next? Is it a test of character and strength? Is it a chance for serendipity? Either path you choose will bear fruit, and whether it is apples or lemons is how you perceive that path.

You can either choose the smoothest course, do what you thought was right - what you thought you wanted - for years, or you can follow the path of most resistance, uncertain and of undetermined length. The latter will eventually lead to the first path if that is what you truly want out of life, the question is whether you want to take the easy or the hard path.

Every wise English teacher we have ever had has quoted to us that is not the destination but the journey that counts, so will my journey be easy or memorable?

No one wants to face heartbreak, but if we hide from it before it even happens will you ever experience anything? We must fight for what we believe in and want the most, and we need to try and never forget who we are. Have I forgotten?

Searching through discarded papers I find words that I had once written:

"praise the underdog who finds beauty and happiness in the simplest of tasks. he who achieves this will truly be free. break away from the constraints of society and taste the fruits of knowledge and you will find yourself richer than anyone who places more value in the economy than in love and peace. surround yourself with good company, for those who seek lies will bring nothing but hurt, and one should only judge their happiness in the amount of friends, if they must judge at all. keep your integrity, just don’t expect justice. lose your pride, never your faith and always hope. never stop questioning everything, grant forgiveness and show mercy always, and even if you do not accept religion, don’t feel ashamed to pray. in the end we are only human, and we are weak, so do not feel you need to win, especially when there is no contest. allow yourself to fail, fail miserably, and then breathe and learn from all mistakes, not just your own. we are all good and bad, evil and kind, so just as you are taught not to judge art, music, and literature too harshly, try not to judge others, for we all live together and one day you may need their help."

Though I had forgotten, when I read this I realize that I still believe and should prove that to myself once again. I will have a memorable life.

The Bean

My father always told me "everything happens for a reason", and though I tried to live by this mantra I do not think I actually understood just how accurate this was until Tuesday.

For the last two years of my life I have been working towards a music degree in vocal performance - and the last three years have been towards a bachelor in English. In the span of approximately ten seconds my entire plan came crashing down around my feet. Next year I will of course graduate with my BAE, however my vocal ambitions are no more. Because I have been taught to be unique and because I am a passive sort of a person who tends to explode with happiness more internally rather than externally, I have failed to gain admission into the performance program.

Telling me that I do not compare to my peers who were accepted into the program, and that I can do a third year recital, but without any instructor assistance, I grudgingly left my teachers studio knowing that I would never see a third year recital. It was this same day that I received a paper from my Romantics course - my first C I have ever received - and was rejected from a job I had applied to. I am still currently looking for employment of course, but have since regained a more optimistic outlook.

After getting all of the bad news out of the way, I was able to attend the six third year recitals of my friends that afternoon. I never thought that the day would ever come to an end, however when it finally did this is when I realized that somethings do happen for a reason.

Originating from Alberta, I left the safety of my parents home to attend school in Nova Scotia. I had applied to live in the 'haunted' residence, however was placed in my third choice - Barrax. It was here that I met Nathan, who soon became a close friend. Coincidentally, we lived on the same floor and only two doors apart. To say that we got along all the time would be a huge exaggeration, however, he was the only person I would allow to comfort me through a friends death. Two years after we meet we began dating - a complete and utter shock to me and something that prompted all my friends and family members to say "I told you so".

Anyway, it was on this fateful Tuesday that I knew that I had met Nathan for a reason. Laying on my bed discussing the news and then standing in his kitchen the next day still miserable and getting that reviving hug, I knew that this is why I had been placed in Barrax. The reason was to meet the person that could replace the parental comfort that was across the country. I had met him to be reminded that no matter how horrible life can be that there will always be someone there to lift you up. And it was with this knowledge that I gave Nathan one small dry kidney bean on Tuesday. The reason - so that one day when searching through his wallet for change and he came across that forgotten bean he would remember that there was someone out there that loved and cared about him, just as he had for me.

The Pen

The cool rain battered the thin pane of glass separating life inside from that which thrived outside.

Mellow music drifted throughout the small room, almost making it bearable, while she confided to her pen.

It was rather presumptuous of her however to assume that her pen would want to listen, or deal with this slightly ostentatious scene.

Fortunately for her the pen

in all its inanimate perfection

allowed her to write down obscure feelings on the blank white surface.

Though some would say that this was due to a momentary lapse in judgment I would like to think that this show of kindness was the pen being momentarily understanding. Unfortunately

no one will ever know what exactly went on in the mind of the pen while she was using it but one can hope that it was not self pity.

Self pity is possibly one of the worst emotions readily available to humanity as it causes more hardships than necessary and results

inevitably

in the loss of happiness; even if it is just for a moment.

If anything, the pen should feel honoured, with all due humility unto her, that she trusts the pen enough to confide her innermost feelings to it, as no other person, or object for that matter, is given this much respect as it were.