Work or play?

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Psst: I’ve moved. Visit me here http://streetsideconvos.com. Maybe the new blog will be for you. Maybe not.

Work. It was all those things you ‘had’ to do for very justified reasons. Today it was in the name of commitment, tomorrow in the name of reputation, the next day in the name of tradition, maybe in the name of adulthood, and oh, watch for the big one- in the name of god.

It was all those boxes you had to stuff yourself into because of course you had to be realistic. Yet no one told you that reality was a constantly changing construct that perhaps you had a stake in recreating.

You justified it long enough although when you stopped to listen you knew that it was not wings but shackles that your so called ‘reasons’ gave you, and you were a willing prisoner. Your excuses were many- justified excuses. Everybody agreed to them because they were so wise and reasonable – except that little’ naive’ child inside of you that you just couldn’t get to shut up.

Then there was play. It was not what you had to do, but what you got to do. It was that place where you became a child again. There were no reasons here, all the reason you had was love. Love got you doing crazy things; much more things than tradition, reputation, god or any other thing they made up to guilt trip you into a loveless commitment could get out of you.

Work or play?

The pesky little child scurries off again into distant lands hidden deep inside of you. (S)he comes back, telling you that there is so much more. That there is a place where life can be play. That it is a place where work is play and so no longer work. A place where you give not just your time and your energy but your whole life. A place that everyone is waiting for you to claim but they just don’t know.

But how can you explain this? What if you never find it? What if you end up naive, irresponsible?

So your dreams become nightmares inside of you. And the light that only you carry gets suffocated in the dark musty cupboards where you hide it.

Your dreams get short of seeing because its been too long in those dark musty cupboards.

You dare not voice them and so they will never know that first kiss with the air that could birth them into words, then goals, then reality.

So then you become disillusioned. And you settle for work. Work is justified. Isn’t there something sanctimonious about the ‘sacrifices’ you ‘have’ to make? You hide behind reasons and everyone agrees with you and nods along because God forbid-  what if your dreams came true then their own dark musty cupboards will have to prematurely see the light in a way that will be oh so unbearable.

Except stubborn little child. There (s)he goes off to play and when (s)he comes home you give him/her a good spanking.

“Shut up! Shut up!”,  you tell stubborn little child.

“Say no more of your childish fantasies.”

But what if you went along with stubborn little child?

What if you got to play forever?

Don’t even deceive yourself that it is an easy road. It will not be as easy as hiding behind all those reasons everyone tells everyone.

Here you will fight and fight. At the risk of your life, your reputation, your tradition and all the other things you and they used to hold you bound, you will fight for your right to play.

Work or play?

What will you choose?

What they didn’t tell you about change

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My first week in Calgary- somewhere in Inglewood

If you know me decently enough you will probably know that I moved to the States recently. Please forgive me if I am behind on responding to emails or comments, its been busy 😉

Last week I met up with friends to say goodbye and it finally dawned on me that I would never call Calgary my home again. Next time I’ll come as a visitor and while I would still know all its corners so well, it wouldn’t be the same. Some people that I met in Calgary will go just like me. Everything will reshuffle.

While I have made so many major moves in my life, it seems that as you grow older you start to be more reflective about choices. It don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.

Especially since I will be in Colorado for a while, I had those moments of wondering-  should I or should I not, will it be worth it? Don’t I need to just dig in my roots somewhere?

Am I sure? Really sure? Really Really sure?

While I don’t have an answer to that question, one thing I know for sure is that this year God has been calling me forward into that sense of focus that comes from trust.

Life only happens once so how could we be sure of anything?

We could never really be sure of every move. We could never predict if it was right or wrong, we can never predict how it will change us, we can never predict how it will work out, we can never predict how it will impact our relationships. The best we could do is trust and to die trying to follow that sense of calling that only us can really understand.

I knew those tears were coming eventually, I just couldn’t really figure out when. Its always been the same. It would start with apathy and just doing all I needed to do but my breakthrough always came after I cried it out, grieved that part of me that is dying and finally embraced that part of me that is reborn.

Even as I sorted through clothes figuring out what to take and what to leave behind, so would my emotions and personality and relationships be sorted out too, sieving out what’s not helpful anymore and strengthening new connections.

With every transition, whether it is committing to a relationship, moving to a new place, moving houses, welcoming a child or saying goodbye to loved ones who pass, that liminal space between one end and one beginning can be very complicated.

While we are told that its for good, and to be strong and to be excited, I think we also need to begin to say that its okay to not be excited. Its okay to not be sure. Its okay to grieve even when we are supposed to be excited about good news. Grieving simply means we are closing one chapter and in the same way letting a new chapter unfold.

So if you are like me and you have moments where you think you are supposed to be excited but find only apathy or maybe apprehension, remember that it is more complicated than that. Give yourself room to grieve. Then let go- and TRUST.

My tears are so powerful. After them I become ready to move on and start another new beginning.

in Stanley Park, Vancouver