In a lot of ways I didn’t have the life that I hoped for, or even that I wanted. But still, every second there it was, a second of my precious life on this earth. Living is not like riding a car….it’s more like sailing a boat, or riding a horse…there are other elements that come into play than just your will alone…there is also the weather, and sometimes your skill at sailing. There’s weather that would sink any ship, and weather where you’d have to throw yourself bodily overboard to fail, and then most people it’s something in between.
When there’s ending sometimes I think of the big ending…little deaths that prepare your soul to deal with the big one. A sense of loss, throwing things away, food I didn’t eat, belongings I didn’t have time to donate, waste, loss. But also looking forward, realizing how heavy this apartment has weighed on me this entire year, how my chest tightens when I get close to this neighborhood, how I felt my shoulders come up to my ears coming back from SF.
Such a difficult year, so much exile, so much flight, so much trauma, but yet packing and looking back on my time in Canada, I see times when I was happy, taking my FIT course, going to CL, going to the gym when it was still good, learning how to bgirl, speaking at PyCon, going to HS, my cat, living with Sisi, fun times with T and Y, drinking big drinks at A.
No battle plan survives contact with the enemy, and still you have to make a plan and try to follow it.