When I was a wee tyke I remember a short lived weekly ritual where my parents would pull me and my brother away from our Saturday morning cartoons, throwing us kicking and screaming into the back of our old brown Honda Accord for a twenty minute drive, while we loudly pleaded and cried, all to arrive at an old two story commercial complex on the outskirts of town. This was meditation class.

We’d climb the stairs to the second floor and all take a seat on the floor, leaning on the wall if you were lucky. Then someone would come in and guide the group. Close your eyes. Imagine a garden. It’s just you and the opening flowers. Blah blah etc. add it to my already long list of childhood mental anguish. I couldn’t figure out why people would just want to sit still and not do anything, and even now it’s still strikes me as a little odd. I get quiet reflection, and peace and quiet, but not the whole ‘lets all meditate like this’ kind of thing. Back then, when I asked about it, I’d get that favorite parental catchphrase: “you’ll understand when you’re older.”

I’ve never been good at staying in one position for very long, the blood rushes out of my folded feet and my legs fall asleep despite my best efforts. One of the last times we went, this happened without me realizing it, leading to some pretty embarrassing tumbles down onto some of the more dedicated meditates. Blessing in disguise?

Years later, and maybe now more than ever it’s not an uncommon complaint to hear from people that they find they have too much to do, that their lives buzz with an almost painful alacrity. Thinking about it now, and maybe I have sort of the opposite problem, I’m always finding new things to be interested in and passionate about and moving on from one thing to the next. But I feel like I never accomplish anything that great because I’m always switching focus. Probably why I majored in both Biology and Urban Planning, why I can’t decide whether to spend time on writing, illustrating, painting, photography, martial arts, endurance running, learning to play the alto sax, debating whether I should buy a motorbike (or an iphone), and plenty of other stuff that aren’t off the top of my head.

When I started writing this post, I thought it would end with the theme of how screwed I am. Now, I’m tempted to end it by saying that I want to only focus on some of those specific things (like three or four) and shove the rest into the ether.

* I like photography, but not enough, I find that the amount of effort I put into it just doesn’t justify what I end up getting back. The real value to photography to me came when I limited myself to using only one camera with a wide angle only lens. Photography in this style, pushes me to not care so much about what other people think and be more extroverted and outgoing. As a means of original self expression however, I don’t think I have that special something for photography. So I officially delegate it to the realm of fun, like videogames, not something I should take as seriously as I sometimes do.

* Illustration is something I find very difficult and challenging but so rewarding as well. My portfolio of work is pretty small and simple, but each time I finish a large project, it’s almost tangible how much my skill improves for the next one. I kind of stopped for a long while though… after I mailed to ask how I could be a better applicant to reapply to the Architecture grad program at UofT and they basically told me that I shouldn’t bother because every part of my application - especially the portfolio - was crap.

I’d also like to get into printing more too (except for a Kikkoman sushi poster, my apartment walls are naked), but I wish printing services weren’t so expensive - I had a really crappy experience the last time I tried to print a poster using shiny silver inks.
(As an aside, I’m planning to apply to Urban Strategies next year for their summer internship program and a good portfolio will help too.)

* I also love writing, and I’ve always had this feeling deep down that I want to write something of real substance one day. I don’t care so much about being a novelist - I just want to write a novel. I don’t think I’m at that level yet though, life experience and skill wise, but I will be one day.

* The way ones body works is connected to how ones mind works. You have to keep your body fit to keep your mind fit, or vice versa, or in some way they each strongly influence each other. I think I got the idea from Murakami, but it’s one of those things that feels so inherently true. Really, I’m pretty simple, I learn best through physical experiences, and I don’t really spend to much time thinking about things that I can’t see, touch and smell. When my body feels like crap, so does the rest of me which is why I push myself to working out as much as I do - It’s still about always getting stronger, faster, better, but I guess now (in my semi old age) there’s this mental well being component to it too.

I tried to be direct, but this still turned into a long post, sorry bout that. I mostly wrote this for myself, but hope that you’ve enjoyed it.

p.s. one thing I remember about that old meditation building is that on the landing of the stairs going up to the second floor, they had an old timey soda vending machine. The kind of thing that was way old fashioned even when I first saw it ten years ago. Neat.