truth.

the word truth has been coming up a lot in my life over the last few days, the first few days of this new year, this year of the dragon.

i recently downloaded this album, truth, found on some random blog. and here's another song i can't stop listening to, truth, over and over again. in yoga last night, the instructor spoke of truth, in our practice, and by extension, in our lives. finding the truth in each pose, being honest with yourself, pushing yourself where you need to push, going easy on yourself where you might be judgemental. truth. being honest with yourself is the only way you can enjoy your life. well, for me at least, this is my truth. and i know, as sometimes i feel as if i've spent my whole life lying to myself. trying to be other people. trying to live other lives. never really accepting who i am and what i am and all of that. at least not in a general sense. it's not true all the time, but that feeling is most definitely there. i've had moments of acceptance, beautiful experiences of truth. i will dedicate myself to living those moments more and more. last night, deep into a pigeon pose i thought would never end, various parts of my body screaming at me, i suddenly had a smile on my face - that uncomfortable position i found myself in was, in that moment, my truth, my whole truth, and nothing but my truth, and right there there in the center of it, amidst the exhaustion and sweat and pain and doubt and self-loathing and insecurity and fear and non-acceptance and inflexibility, there was joy. and that joy was more truth than i had felt all day. and suddenly all of that other stuff was okay. i was going to be okay. no, i was already okay. and this couldn't be anything other than truth.

The Economy of the Heart...

"Forgiveness is the economy of the heart.…forgiveness saves the expense of anger, the cost of hatred, the waste of spirits."
– Hannah More

On Sunday I met up with the girl who I was seeing for the better part of last year. We broke up at the end of November. Raw deal.

The whole first year I had in Vancouver was pretty tough, in a lot of ways. I went through a few different jobs - looking for the right fit - plus had some very lean times when I wasn't able to find work at all. Stayed with friends, couch-surfed at my brother's place off and on, sub-letted a room for a few months at another friend's place, house-sat at my cousin's while they were away, then finally settled into a place I'm hoping I will be able to call home for a while.

The stress of being broke, having no job, or a bad job, and still being broke, coupled with working the crazy late night hours of bartending (something I swore I would never do again, but had no real alternative), led me back down a dark path toward a pretty serious depressive state.

I was really in no place last year to even think it was a good idea to begin a new relationship with somebody. Still, I met a girl, and I liked her, so you know how those things go...

Right from the start we got along, and had easy conversation, but I think pretty quickly it was apparent that there was a bit of a disconnect. I think we did genuinely dig each other, so we gave it some time. Looking back, I think instead of coming together, we were circling around each other, and things like that can go on forever. Where I was, in my own head, I was so distracted and fatigued and withdrawn, it was really impossible to let go and be myself and be present in the moments and experience the joy that can be spending time with a new soul.

Plus, there were some lifestyle differences. Me: the (almost literally) starving artist. Her: Doctor. At one point, when discussing the possibility of a future together, she said "I just don't want to end up having to take care of us." Sharper words have never pierced by heart, though I know they were not intended as weapons, she was just speaking the truth.

Truth is, she met me at a bad time in my life. Transition. DOWN time. And by DOWN, I mean way down there in that hole that only those who have been there know about. That dark place that shuts you off from the sunshine and from love and from being open to the world and the people in it.

I'm saddened about her and I. I really liked her, and I was hoping we had a bit more time to dance around each other just a little bit more, to see if we were going to come together. I thought we were.

She never got to meet "me," as "me" was lost for a bit while Ryan simply survived day-to-day and waited out the storm until things settled down and I could be where I am now, in a new place, on slightly more stable ground, a foundation from which to springboard into this new life that I am discovering and building for myself. She never got to meet the Ryan that is happy, creative, loving, appreciative, inspired, supportive, and open to the Universe and all of its wonder.

And I never got to really meet the true "her," as I was so lost in the shadows and under the clouds, that it was impossible to see her clearly. I only caught a few glimpses of who she really is, but even in that cold and grey world I was trapped in for a while, I saw enough light and felt enough warmth, that I knew once the warm winds came and the darkness was forced to move on, that there was somebody special standing in front of me.

Sadly, she didn't have any more time, and made her decision to end our circling and walk away. I am living with it, moving on, and letting go. It was tough for a while - it always is - but that is life. I've been here before, and who knows how many times I'll have to come back here.

I'm learning though, about that "hole," about the darkness. About the places my mind and body go to. I don't fully understand yet, these things, why it happens, not entirely. I know it can be seasonal, and I know certain stresses can trigger certain reactions, which can spiral into certain patterns of withdrawal and non-function. I'm learning about these things, and I'm getting better at accepting them, and learning how to not let them take over.

So yeah, there we were, on Sunday, two americanos in hand, sunny day, walking along the seawall.

It was tough to see her. I was hurt for a while, confused, angry, resentful, dejected. Seeing her again brought to the surface some of the pain that I had thought I had gotten pretty close to forgetting about, but along with that was a forgiveness, and a knowledge of a true loving kindness that we are able to give to each other. To be able to walk away from each other with smiles on our faces (and some tears, I won't lie), and a genuine warmth, well, that sure feels better than any of the bitterness that might have wormed its way under each of our skins.

I wish you the best my girl, have a long and happy life.

The Optimist Sees...

"The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."
-Winston Churchill

One thing I've been working on is watching my thoughts, and gaining an awareness of when I'm thinking negatively. When an idea arises, do I immediately jump to all the reasons why it won't work? Or do I allow the idea to grow a little? Do I explore the possibilities or try to shut it down?

I have noticed a relationship between where I'm at in my own happiness, and how I react to things that people tell me. When I feel happy and fulfilled, my reactions are positive. When I am unhappy, depressed, tired, my reactions are negative.

These days, when I notice myself reacting negatively to things, or trying to "shut down" new ideas and opportunities, I am simply trying to be aware of these thoughts/reactions, to acknowledge them, and then to allow myself to move beyond them. The last thing I want to do is react negatively to my negative reactions, coming down on and judging myself will only compound the problem.

So, I'm learning to be open. To be aware. And to be able to guide my reactions.

I think about the types of people that I like being around. Do they exhibit positive or negative energy?

Exactly.

That Was Then...

...this is NOW.

That was two years ago.

Today? Well, I'm on my way. The title of this blog says "The year…," as if I could do it in just one. But no, life doesn't work like that. Baby steps. Progress. It's a PROCESS. You don't just click your heels and get to go home. Nope. You have to crawl through some muck and claw your way up a few hills before you even get a clear view of which direction you're even supposed to be going in…

And even then, well, shit, you never know.

Today: it's also around my birthday, give or take a few days. Two years later. I'm somewhere around 35 years old. Getting better? Yup. Am I there yet? Not a chance. But what is "there" anyway? Personally, I don't think it exists. I'm HERE, and that's good for me, for right now. That's something that I'm learning. It has to be. Good. For Now. That doesn't mean to be satisfied and stop progressing. Just the opposite, in fact. But what it does mean is to enjoy the process as it's happening, to breathe, to take in the moments. I could spend my whole life wishing I was somewhere else, and then, when it was finally time for me to leave, wishing I was back in any of those moments I wasn't even aware of at the time…

So why am I writing this as a blog? A couple of reasons. One: it's good for me to write about what I'm going through. I helps me to organize my thoughts. To clarify things. Two: Who knows, maybe there are some other people out there who are also tired of running. Maybe hearing my story will help them (you?). Surely I'm not the only person in the world who is going through these things. Just knowing that helps. Three: For reasons I can't even think of yet. Just to set this ball in motion undoubtedly will have consequences that will surprise me. Just wait. We'll see.

This is for you and me. The few of us who have (and are) fucked up. Who have made a series of bad decisions, one leading into another. Or, worse off, and this is I think my biggest mistake/lesson, NOT MADE ANY DECISIONS AT ALL. In a number of ways, I feel I have simply let my life happen TO me. And, in that regard, I know I must get more involved if I'm going to make it into anything resembling what I think it can be. There are a million reasons why… depression, feelings of powerlessness, poverty, emotional immaturity, the list goes on. No more excuses. I'm no longer interested in talking about why my life is the way it is, about the outside forces that have put me where I am. No, I am interested in thinking about, talking about, and acting on the forces inside of me that can make changes in my life. I am interested in making decisions. And acting on them.

I'm in a bit of a ramble right now, but it's late, and I'm tired.

I'll write more later, as I'd like to break down a lot of the specific problems I am dealing with in my life, and also a number of the specific personal issues that I have to find solutions for as well. This is, and will continue to be, quite the process for me.

I'm just happy that I stopped running.

Once you turn to face them, the monsters are never as big as you thought they were.

A Journey of a Thousand Miles...

...begins with one step.

Yup, we've all heard this before. But you know what? It's true. Or, well, at least, I think it is. I need it to be, for the journey that I am currently on.

Here's the deal: about two years ago, I woke up one day, somewhere around my birthday, and I was 33 years old, give or take a few days. How did my life look? Not too good. I was living in some shithole apartment in Toronto. Working a bartending job I hated. I was smoking cigarettes (again), drinking too often, eating horrible food, and still doing a bit of drugs here and there. I was 25 pounds overweight. I didn't own a damn thing. The only furniture in my bedroom was a mattress on the floor and a small desk with my laptop on it. I was thousands of dollars in debt (old student loans that I hadn't made payments on in years). I was a two-time post-secondary drop-out. I had bad credit (I had to use a pay-as-you-go cell phone). I hadn't done my taxes in ten years. I was single, and lonely, having just broken up with another one in a long succession of part-time girlfriends (this one I had even been briefly engaged to). There was little or nothing in my day-to-day life that made me happy. I had dropped out of my former social scene, was working too much (the long, hard hours of a bartender at a busy bar that would often leave me physically and mentally broken for days), and was sinking further into the dark waters of the depression that I had been battling for years.

What the hell had happened? Where had it all gone wrong? I remembered being a young, enthusiastic writer with an entrepreneurial bent. I had come from some hard times in my youth, but had a spirit that refused defeat. I had started my own music 'zine in the late 90s, gotten involved in Canada's exploding hip-hop scene, written a music column for a notable publication, done freelance writing for various magazines, been on television a number of times, been a talent scout for a major record label, released a couple of albums, toured across Canada and Europe, had a book published...

I had battled bi-polar symptoms and substance use that whole time, but somehow I always manage to hold it together. Or, at least, I thought I did. Looking back now, no, I think I was wrong. Had I been healthy, maybe all of those things wouldn't have fallen apart. Had I the proper tools to deal with my problems instead of running away and crawling into a bottle of Heineken, maybe I wouldn't be in this mess.

And now here I was, 33 years old, broken.

I could not continue on like this. I had only two options, and one of them was unthinkable. So, I turned around to face the demons and monsters that had been chasing me my whole life.

I walked from my apartment at Queen St. W. and Sorauren Ave. up to Bloor West Village, to the Moksha Hot Yoga studio, and bought myself a one-month pass. Then I walked home and phoned up Dr. Richard Mean, a psychiatrist and family friend. My mother had given me his number years before. (Why hadn't I called?)

Hello?
Is this Dr. Dick?
Yes.
It's Ryan. Stephanie's son. I need help.