While my mother always made it a point to stay involved in my life (to a fault), it was never because she loved me. She’s not someone who’s emotionally intelligent enough to understand what love is.

Which is why she tries to cling to me so desperately, even when I try so vehemently to avoid her. It’s the same way that some men or women only love the idea of marriage, instead of their spouses. They’re relationships based on all the wrong reasons.

Realizing this has made me wonder; did I ever actually love my girlfriends, or did I just love the idea of love?

Also known as a drinking party at Shirley’s.

This is how I learn that people have a good time when there’s at least one person willing to make a fool of himself, because it sets the tone for everyone else.

That being young is to be young at heart. That to be young at heart is to laugh deep and laugh regularly.

And that it never hurts to have alcohol to help facilitate the process.

I’m walking through a Chinese Christian church. The wood is old but lacquered well. Decorations line the walls: a tree made of childrens’ handprints, posters about the Almighty with slogans in large print, calendars and schedules of upcoming events. We head downwards while a prayer meeting goes on upstairs. A young girl in Heelies skates alongside us in the hall.

We’re lead to a room with two table tennis tables, blue, relatively new. There isn’t much room to maneuver, but the lighting is great. Shou offers us some Jasmine tea. Players are warming up as more Chinese men come in one at a time. They play in sneakers without sneaker socks, or dress shirts, or those shirts with logos you get for free at a company. Their shorts are an awkward length between capris and sports trunks.

Dan introduces himself to everyone. I’m sitting down, trying to place the province of their accents. Tamarra picks up a children’s book and starts to read.

All their serves are illegal; they don’t throw the ball the regulation 6 inches straight up, which means they can put an unfair spin on the ball before it hits the paddle. A result of the insular society they have here, where they play the same people over and over again, never venturing outside their religious clique. They simply don’t know any better.

Dan gets paired up for a match. They both play conservatively when warming up, trying to hide their techniques while feeling each other out. “Some people, when you get it in their hit zone, never miss”. Dan’s opponent makes no mistakes for him to capitalize on, but a consistent defence wears him out. His opponent spends his energy winning the first game, smashing at every opportunity, and loses his momentum. Dan wins every game for the rest of the match.

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I was late for work this morning. The weather was beautiful on the drive in. There were thick, dark clouds hanging ominously in the distance and high in the sky, but the sun was out, bathing everything in brightness. The wind was refreshingly cool, so I had to roll the windows down.

In another weird phase lately. Hyper again. Currently feeling this part from verse 35 of the Tao Te Jing:

Hold fast to the Great Form within and let the world pass as it may
Then the changes of life will not bring pain but contentment, joy, and well-being

Sometimes, I feel like I’m being tested. It hasn’t really been going badly, but it’s certainly a mix of ups and downs, resolutions and frustrations.

I started to notice that I’ve been talking to myself when alone. Sometimes I laugh aloud too. I once read an article about a young man who did a solo transatlantic journey by boat that took several weeks, and he said that talking to yourself is normal; it’s when you start to answer your own questions that you should be worried. I think I’ll be alright.

I’ve come to accept the way things have turned out. I’ve felt this way before, but it never lasted more than a couple months, something that happens when I lose sight of the tao. Hopefully it won’t be so ephemeral this time. I just need to remember that things will continue to work out on their own. To stop trying to force things to happen. To breathe.

And to hold fast to the way that cannot be walked.

So the next two weeks are:

• a walk by the river with Frédéric, Misun, and their two boys
• four Tai Chi classes
• a haircut with Jeff
• table tennis with Dan at the university, then back to my place to watch Constantine
• Victoria Day long weekend
• a tattoo appointment
• a session with the therapist
• lunch and a movie with Aaron

Not including the work I need to do on my latest photo project for the next show. I’m also supposed to catch up with Naveed at some point in there; he’s having a pool party for his latest investment property. I got us some cigars because he’s a new father, which I’ll have to do for Aaron as well, since his first (a boy) is on the way.

Busyness seems to come all at once, leaving me bewildered. Never a bit here and there.

Then all of a sudden, I’m alone for days at a time, wondering what happened and where everyone went. It’s a strange flux that goes from one extreme to the other.

The goal becomes a balance of both. That way, the solitude is a welcome change from the overstimulation and vice-versa.