CREATING LIFE

Here it is May, again - a year since I wrote my first column.

It came about after a group of friends and I discussed what our dreams were and how we were going to go about fulfilling them. In first year media writing at Ryerson’s Radio and Television Arts program, one of our early assignments was a personal essay. I quite enjoyed that and thought it was something I was meant to do. But I got busy with other writing and soon forgot about it. This last year, fulfilling that desire, has been a dream come true. There’s nothing like doing what it is you’ve dreamt about and having the result meet the expectation.

I started trundling along the White Trail eleven years ago when I got my dog, Morgan. She, like most dogs, loved to snoop, so instead of forcing her to move at my athletic pace, I went along with her playful one. In so doing, I was treated to many wonders, many stories and many lessons. The most important insight was: All the answers are within; nature balances us so we can hear them.

Last year, as I wrote Trundling Along the White Trail, I searched and searched for answers, and the questions were: who am I, and why do I behave this way? I had lost a sense self: a sense of whom I was, and it was making me feel heavy, lethargic and numb. I kept reading books looking for answers, and the advice was there except I wasn’t doing anything about it. Nature, too, was telling me to struggle and emerge - everyone and everything was - and thanks to a bear, I finally got it.

I was out on the trail on a lovely day mid April walking with my shoes in hand, when thirty feet ahead, I saw a big brown guy the size of a couch scamper away. The bear had just woken up and would have been very hungry. It could have attacked me but it didn’t. I stood my ground and all of a sudden I noticed my heart was lifted and I was feeling very powerful. At that moment, I felt protected. I knew I was not alone and that there was more to life than what can be seen and touched. I had read about the oneness of all life, and understood about it, but I had never felt it like that before.

This knowing, this feeling of connection to a greater realm, was what I had been searching for. And now that I’ve crossed its threshold, it's time to come out of hibernation and start scampering on.

Joseph Campbell said: “Life is not a process of discovery. It is a process of creation.” So I started by renovating a sleeping cabin and making it into my studio. A friend donated a pullout couch to replace the bed, I found an old school desk and rug in the basement, the lamp was coming from the garage and I brought my musical instruments up too. Nothing matches, but that’s okay. I’ve always wanted my own space, and now I’ve got it. It’s time to get out the list of the hundred things I want to do in life and get on with them.

Reflection is a good thing, but only as a means to an end. At some point, I’ve come to realize, you have to stop thinking about what you want and start being who you want to be no matter what. The point of all my struggling was to define who I was and who I was not and then to emerge - to choose who it is I want to be. This act of creation is both far-reaching and humbling for it aligns me with the energy of life itself. Life is creation; creation is life.

So off I go alone now, picking up the pace - scampering into the wilderness. I have no idea what will come of it. This monthly column may wind up as a personal essay, a short story or even a collection of photographs and poems. Who knows? But isn’t mystery what makes life exciting.
DO!