broken wing

I don’t know what it is, but it seems like everyone I know is smack dab in the middle of a period of transition.

Friends and family are contemplating new jobs, new homes, new loves, and new lives. People that have worked in The Industry since the web was a place where anything could happen (and did) have decided that they can no longer wring a life from it. Longtime couples have gone their separate ways, leaving behind acrimonious feelings and disappointment. And new lives and new families have been sowed, providing hope, life, and long, sleepless nights.

With all of this, and that is going on in the world, I have found myself feeling more and more introspective. I think about the fact that I will be turning 33 this year; no major milestone, but somehow still a number that brings with it a perceptible weight.

I think about mortality a lot these days.

The honest truth of it all is that I don’t believe in any kind of afterlife. I believe that we get one chance to do what we can with what we’ve got, and if we waste it, it’s wasted. If I’m to be completely honest with myself, there’s a fairly significant part of me that fears dying without having done every single possible thing I could have ever wanted to accomplish.

The problem is the irrational part of me wants to do every single possible thing right now.

I suppose this is what has always driven me to continue moving. I’ve always believed that moving forward is best, but lateral moves are better than not moving at all. At the same time, I’ve almost forced myself to never do things over; once I’ve quit something, I’ve quit it for good.

That’s probably the main reason why coming back to Winnipeg two years ago (two years!) was so difficult. When I moved away five years ago, it was for good, like someone leaving a job that they had stayed with so long it had ceased to bring any joy or fulfillment.

Winnipeg has a magnetic pull, however. Many people have come and gone, only to return a year or two later, and I was convinced that I would not be one to come back. Yet here I am.

Living in Toronto was like this constant ass-kicking. Not only is there this drive in the air that seems to propel people in ways you don’t see in Winnipeg, there’s also just an incredible amount of opportunity. Winnipeg is one of those cities that breeds complacency - it’s so easy to just be here, with little effort - which is part of the reason why I moved away in the first place.

In some ways, I can’t possibly imagine why Ren�e and I are here, and at the same time everything just fits. But it’s a fit like sweatpants; comfortable, but not very flattering. And you can’t wear sweatpants forever. Can you?


Why am I writing any of this? To try and work out some of the restless nomad that has been nipping at me lately, I guess. I have a very porous skin, and all of this change that I see going on around me is very beguiling. Trust me, though, I won’t be using this site to pour out all of these pent up thoughts. I think there’s nothing wrong with being occasionally existentially wanky on one’s site, but I do plan to do some more humour writing soon. Really.

Ah well. I’m looking forward to having the summer off. I plan to do a lot of travelling to work this bug out of my system, and I also plan to do some serious thinking about where it is that I really want to be in the next five, ten, and twenty years. Moving is fine, but I want to have some place to be moving to.

Complete this sentence: “One thing I absolutely must do sometime in my life is -“

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