old heroes and new lives

My entries used to be filled with so many details, moments, thoughts, and emo­tions. I used to believe every­thing I wrote was impor­tant. Not that I was ever a par­tic­u­larly good writer, only a per­son try­ing to be hon­est with him­self, and that was the way for me to sort out the things in my head.

Now that need isn’t there any­more. Instead, I write to keep track of where I am, know­ing that in time I’ll be won­der­ing how far I’ve gone, and let my pic­tures fill in the blanks.

Banc Sushi and cleavage

On my birth­day, Lisa treated me to all-you-can-eat sushi at my favourite restau­rant, and cleavage.

The new Leonard Cohen biog­ra­phy is out and Genevieve tells me it’s amaz­ing, or at least a great deal more infor­ma­tive than the course we took last year at Ottawa U about the birth of the roman­tic trou­ba­dour. I used to be com­pletely obsessed with this man, but now I can’t remem­ber the last time I put on one of his albums for a straight lis­ten through. I knew he was com­ing to Ottawa this Friday before tick­ets went on sale, but never both­ered try­ing to get my hands on one, even though it used to be a goal of mine to see him per­form live before the booze and sex took him like a true rock­star. He rep­re­sents a part of my past I hardly relate to now, and it’s left me feel­ing like I need a new hero (who has some very big shoes to fill).

birthday boy

Little boy’s birth­day par­ties involve a lit­tle less sexy and a lot more chaos.

I have so many friends with their paths set out for them over next 20-odd years cause of jobs and kids, yet just as many who’ve arrived at adult­hood and are now won­der­ing what’s next. After find­ing a career, buy­ing a house, and get­ting mar­ried, they’re learn­ing that these were goals they never wanted for them­selves, only things peo­ple have always been telling them they should have. Now they’re won­der­ing where to go from here, and how to find a true sense of fulfilment.

I went through the same cri­sis years ago, but feel no less uncer­tain about future at this point. It’s only nat­ural to go through con­stant cycles of strug­gle and res­o­lu­tion if we’re deter­mined to grow and improve, not to men­tion the curves life tends to throw at us. I’m start­ing to view it with a sense of free­dom instead of doubt.


  1. Much more sushi than cleav­age. I love this photo and how you’ve cap­tured our silliness.

  2. Great photo. Well cap­tured. I Like the clas­sic jacket. With a face like that she doesn’t need to dress like she’s from outer space to look good.

    Maybe one’s meant to find a career, buy a house, and get mar­ried first, and then go find a true sense of ful­fil­ment. Some say that one should stop work­ing at the age of 40 (i.e. finan­cially sta­ble) and take a step back to fig­ure out what to do with the rest of one’s life.

    On changes, in Downton Abbey Mr. Carson said some­thing like,“If life doesn’t change you, what’s the mean­ing of liv­ing.” Something to pon­der on :)

    • I sup­pose it is bet­ter to have dis­cov­ered how empty and mate­r­ial one’s goals are their 20s than even later in life. And it’s some­thing you’d prob­a­bly only be able to real­ize after reach­ing those goals.

      I didn’t know you saw Downton Abbey. I’ve been hear­ing lots of good things about it. It’s cur­rently on my to-watch list.

      • Some crit­ics liken Downton Abbey to the Chinese clas­sic Dream of the Red Chamber.

  3. I don’t think it’s so much that one’s goals are mate­r­ial when one is young; rather you’re just dead set on act­ing out what you’ve been told is right and good for you. They just never tell you it might not be right for YOU particularly.

    But you have lots of the cre­ative in what you do, that will sus­tain you whether in or out of work.

    • Yeah, I think you’re right there. Those kinds of generic goals are a good foun­da­tion for liv­ing per­haps, and may give one the sta­bil­ity one needs to pur­sue the goals that truly make one happy. But they never tell you that.

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