Wide awake.  Still half asleep.  Feeling completely submerged in it.  This darkness that sneaks in at night.  Where does it come from?  Was it there all along?  Hiding in the forgotten corners of my unenlightened egoic narrative?  Or did it creep in from the dead of this lightless night?  This shadow that has been by my side for so long now.  Is there a way to stop it from seeking me?  If I were to name it, I would describe it simply as a deep sense of sadness.  Not depression o ..read more

November night.  Tumbling temperatures.  Fading colors.  Diming lights.  This underlying darkness re-surfacing as this sun sets.  Welcome to the gloomy and grey season.  There’s a reason why Remembrance Day is this time of the year.  After Halloween treats.  Before Christmas lights.  The time of the year that smells and tastes like grief.  Maybe it has a purpose other than simply making me feel sad?  I mean, sadness isn’t necessarily a bad thing even if it can be very uncomfortab ..read more

Three seasons in three days.  Summer on Saturday.  Fall on Sunday.  And Winter on Monday.  Nature is never at rest.  This ever-changing flow of life.  This stillness in motion.  This seasonal shift.  Coinciding with the seasonal metamorphosis also happening inside of me.  What happens next?  Over five and a half decades on this earth and I still don’t know what I’m supposed to be when I grow up.  Who am I?  What am I?  Questions that I was invited to answe ..read more

Breathe. So very deeply. With every single cell in your body. Relax into the wave. Follow it. Move inside of it. Stretch it. Let yourself be carried by its swell. The breath. The flywheel of these pedaling legs. The regulator of this preoccupied mind. Guiding my bike by guiding my breath. Riding into my center. Inspiring steady circles. Expanding. Contracting. Spinning. Listening to what my breath is trying to tell me. Learning what my breath is trying to teach me. Life itself can only flow from the breath. Rolling through the autumn of my life. Getting closer to fall’s peak in my part ..read more

These bridges.  That I like to go to.  In the woods.  Made out of wood.  One at the back corner of Centennial park.  And a newer one erected last year in Mill Creek park.  There are many other bridges in both parks.  But I am drawn to these two for some reason.  Last Sunday.  After a brief sojourn at the pavilion, I pedal my way out to Mill Creek.  I had fat biked to this bridge on a very cold day last January.  I’m not sure if it was the warm forest tea, the simple wooden bench beside it, the freshly fallen dusty snow or the restf ..read more

In so many ways, I’m very much an unCanadian Canadian.  I don’t really care for hockey.  I never watch it on TV.  Skating was my favorite part when I used to play.  But to be honest, I mostly only kept signing up because I couldn’t ride my bike during the winter.  In 2010.  Tired of the indoor trainer, I tried x-country skiing.  I loved the being outdoors part of the sport.  But my skate technique sucked.  And because of this I never seemed to be able to ski comfortably.  Then.  In 2016.  After my concussion.  I bought a f ..read more

Healing.  Part 2.  Crying into my first breath.  How we all emerge into this world.  The most natural thing.  Our innate ability to embody all emotion.  But what happens when we get older?  Do our eyes dry up?  Why is it so difficult for the adult me to shed tears?  I have always been an emotional human.  But, growing up I quickly learned that it wasn’t safe to express painful emotions in most situations.  It would get you ridiculed.  Bullied even.  Big boys don’t cry.  So in order to fit in, I learned to stiffen my upper ..read more

One of the ways that my trauma has molded me is that I am somewhat of a control freak.  Ok, let’s be honest, the word “somewhat” should have been omitted.  My relationship with control is better described as an obsession.  An extreme unconscious belief that if I’m careful enough, vigilant enough and go over all possible scenarios enough that I can prevent future hurtful events or trauma from occurring.  My analytical brain’s best attempt at keeping me safe.  All-consuming.  Utterly exhausting.  And simply impossible.  My control obsession also presen ..read more

Nothing’s the same.  Everything’s the same.  Outside versus inside.  Another lap around the sun.  One year older.  I can feel it.  But only on the outside.  That’s what makes aging so weird.  The body is constantly changing.  Slowly falling apart once we reach a certain age.  But the part within us that moves through each of these body versions stays the same.  My outer form.  It definitely has a middle aged feel to it.  Even though I’m not quite sure what this age should feel like.  Sitting still.  Eyes closed.&nb ..read more

Once you drop beyond the edge of darkness, even after you pull yourself back up, it leaves a trench.  And because of this, it’s so much easier to slip back down.  Even if I felt great on the bike last month, I had been riding too much.  Unconsciously caught up in the numbers.  Fueled by a certain sense of desperation.  My pedaling out of balance with being.  When riding is your medicine, the dosage is of the essence.  Not enough surely isn’t good.  But too much isn’t good either.  Deep down I knew that I wasn’t well.  Whenever I hyper foc ..read more