When you live somewhere new, you get used to all the sounds of that new place eventually, over time. You become accustomed to the creaks in the house, the sounds that frequent outside your place of residence, and even the noise your roommates make. I write this as I lay in bed, having tried to sleep but kept up by the noise of the snow removal happening outside my window. Here in Whitehorse, snow removal on the streets is not something that happens every time it snows. No that would just be too easy… I mean there are not that many streets in town, it really could not possibly take that long to do it frequently. Instead, snow removal happens on a random night, months after snow has been falling, once it has already been packed down nice from all the cars driving over it daily. It's not as easy as running a plow across the street to pick up freshly laid snow; now the plow has to break up the snow that has been packed down, then it is able to plow it off the roads.
Now this isn't a normal sound by any means, like I said, it's not done daily, or even weekly, or monthly. In fact this is the first time I have had to hear the sounds. But I can tell you this much, listening to them break up the snow, and move their snow plows around noisily, does not bode well for a good night's rest. Do they know they make loud beeping noises when they back up? Is there not a way to turn these functions off at night? I guess it could be worse…
At home, where I grew up, I don't recall the noises really keeping me up. I lived in the same house most my life, so I was well used to the noises by the time I grew up. University, well living in a dorm room on residence you mostly have to get used to your roommate.. and well I will save that for another time. But I remember when my parents moved to the house they are in now, it was eery. The house was bigger and sound traveled differently I could hear everything that happened in the kitchen, which was normally just my parents having people over and me going to bed before they were done being social. But another noise I had to get used to were the trains. The first few times I heard the train go by, I was not impressed. Though we were not that close to them, when awake, you can definitely hear them. But they were not so loud as to wake you out of slumber. But after a few times, I actually came to enjoy the sound of the train passing. Wondering as I would drift off to sleep, where the train may end up and who may be on it. That was a sound I had no problem getting used to.
Australia wasn't so bad. I never spent long enough in one place, having only lived there for 10 months, and lived in three different accommodations. My first place of residency was like Melrose Place mixed with a university dorm. Though there were curfews on noise, you could always hear the faint whispers of parties being had in far off rooms, or the sounds of neighbours hooking up. And the gossip could really keep you up all night. The next place I lived was like a temple in comparison, quiet and serene. I had two roommates, one I barely saw and the other who was quite lovely. The only noise that I had to get used to was the sound of geckos. The chirping was something that used to creep me out at first, I never knew if they were on the inside or outside of the house. I found myself checking my room over constantly to see. Usually turning up empty handed, and eventually finding a way to let the chirping lull me to sleep. In my last place of residence, I lived with a lovely woman and her daughter. No outside noises. No noise that could be helped. It was only the creaks of the house that I had to get used to. Which I never did, being there only 6 weeks and all.
In Thailand I remember waking up to roosters… yes you read that correctly. I did not live on a farm, why am I waking up on a weekend to the sound of a rooster crowing at 6am? Because roosters and chickens wandered around my neighbourhood like they owned the place. Being scared of birds and all, this was terrifying enough as it is. But that noise is something I found hard to sleep through or get used to. And on top of the rooster, two days a week --I believe Wednesday and Sunday, if I am not mistaken-- I could hear the chants and songs from the temple that was in my neighbourhood. And not because I lived that close to it, but because they had a PA system throughout the neighbourhood that would project the temple's chants for all to hear. That was definitely a difficult sound to get used to, especially since I didn't speak Thai and was never quite sure what they were even saying. Oh but that wasn't all… have you ever lived near a karaoke bar? I have. At my house in Thailand, there was a karaoke bar located a ways down the road, and some nights the calamitous noise that came from that bar made my head throb. Some nights it bounced off other houses in the neighbourhood and I could swear my neighbours were singing karaoke in their houses. Eventually Leah and I took my Australian friends, when they were up visiting, and we checked out that karaoke bar. Perhaps we should have just joined in every night, would have been a lot more entertaining.
But seriously, that beeping is still going on, how do they expect people to sleep through this?
It's difficult to leave ones home, so familiar and known. Though not thought about often, it's these foreign noises, especially the ones at night, that are a reminder that I am not at home. And sometimes it doesn't feel like home until I find that I no longer notice these noises and am able to sleep in peace without acknowledging the existence of noises at all.
Monday, February 16, 2015
Friday, February 6, 2015
in the silence
I have been meaning to write a post on here for awhile, but to be honest, I haven't been up to it. I wish I could say that I have spent the past few weeks going on adventures and being too busy to write and tell you of all the fantastic things I have been doing, but alas that is not the case. Unless you count hibernating in my room watching Netflix and knitting as adventurous. The reason I choose to write this now is that I read a story to the Grade 9 English class I was teaching today that had a quote that really spoke to me. It got me thinking about my life here and trying to make sense of it all. I never really understood why I, a social person, have chosen to be anti social in this new life of mine, in this new 'home'. But I am starting to make sense of it now.
"In the silence, a man learns to be strong. And the silence is not only on the mountain. Somewhere, before he dies, every man must meet it and struggle with it on his own terms. In the silence we must face only ourselves". - Peggy Curry
I have never been one who is unable to make friends easily. As much attitude as I have, and disdain for society and people, I have always been a friendly, social person who has surrounded herself with friends. I grew up going through school, elementary to university, with many different groups of friends. When I look back at high school in particular, I may have been that girl who always had her headphones on, but I had so many different friends in different groups. I don't care to label the groups according to what they were perceived to be by people outside of the group, but there were all kinds of different groups and looking back I was friends with a lot of them. Even going off to university I made friends with many people, those of whom I am still friends with today, even if we live far away from each other. I made some of the best friends I have there.
Then I chose to leave the country, for the first time, by myself, and head off to Australia. I met friends instantly, though to be honest the first friends I met weren't the friends I kept. I find in situations like that you often tend to make friends with the first people you meet, because of circumstances such as where you live or what classes you are taking. The girls who lived next door to me were from Canada, taking the same program as me, and funny enough took the same program as me at Brock University, so it was easy to find things in common and form a friendship. Over time, I realized that I didn't quite fit in with these girls. They were shallow, conniving and just not the kinds of people I would choose to spend my time with. Lucky for me, I lived in a complex that offered me plenty of people to be friends with. So I slowly became friends with other people and joined a group of friends whom I am still friends with today. I never spent that much time alone in Australia, once getting there I had made friends, dated someone and barely spent any time alone in my room, as I do now. It was nice to be social, to always have something to do, somewhere to go, people to hang out with. But at the same time, it was overwhelming to live in that complex full of drama. It was like living in high school. I eventually moved out and made friends with my new roommate Nicole and some of her friends, who I still consider friends of mine to this day. Even living closer to the beach and further from my friends, I still spent more time being social than being alone. And when I was alone, I was wandering around at the beach or in Mooloolaba.
Then I moved away again a a few years ago, this time a very different culture, in Thailand. Somewhere I felt like it would much harder to make friends and meet people. But I did. Though situations involving my roommate made it difficult to socialize (roommates stories can be saved for a different day), I was able to make friends with quite a few of my fellow teachers and through them I was lucky enough to make friends with other people they have met, whether they were passing through Chiang Mai or living there. Though I did spend some more time alone in Thailand than Australia, I found myself going out more often than not. I rarely bought groceries, so I was constantly going out for dinner, or going to explore some new place, or see the same temple for the millionth time. I became close with another teacher, Megan, and we spent a lot of time together just doing things friends do anywhere. I look back on Thailand with fond memories of adventures, and street food, and markets, usually spent with Megan, Bridget or Leah, or others. I felt like I made some really good friends while I was there.
Fast forward to today, I tell myself, and others, that I am okay. That spending my time being anti social and alone isn't as bad as it sounds. And in a way it's not. I hate the cold. I have been hibernating from it, because deep down, I have realized, I am a warm climate kind of girl. The cold weather takes me out of my element. I can't wear the clothes I love to wear, it's too cold. I don't feel like myself here. Not to say that the 'clothes make the man' because it is certainly not the case. But I feel like my sense of style has been compromised due to the desire to be warm taking over the desire to be stylish. And I think that is part of the problem. I am not myself. I also am having a hard time trusting. And some may ask why that would hinder my social life, my ability to make new friends. But it has. I have always been cynical and felt it was hard to trust others, mostly guys. But I feel as though lately it has been taken to a whole new level. I don't trust new people at all. I don't trust they are who they say they are. I don't trust that what they tell me is fact. I have always been someone who makes better friends with guys than girls, I don't know why, I can't explain it. That's not to say some of my best friends aren't girls, I have just always spent most my time hanging out with the guys. And now I feel like it's hard to do that. How do you make new friends with guys when you don't trust them? It's hard to trust a guy when he says he just wants to be friends, when he follows that up by telling you how good you look or flirts with you in some way. I have always been flirty, that's just how I am. And I know it is often taken as meaning more than it really does. But when it comes to making friends with guys, no matter how brutally honest I can be, I always feel like they aren't as honest back. And I never believe when they are saying being just friends is fine, ulterior motives are always there. Which gets proven time and time again when guys who claim to be my friends stop talking to me when they get girl friends, or when I finally explicitly tell them I am not interested or looking to date anyone at all, they stop talking to me. Now I am not saying every guy I talk to is interested in me. It's not about me being conceited and thinking they are all attracted to me. It stems from the lack of trust I have in them to be honest with their intentions with me. And I hate it.
So here I am, unable to put my trust in anyone new in my life and not feeling like myself. And I feel alone. I have never felt so alone in my life. I have gone from living with my boyfriend who was around a lot while I was home, otherwise I was out with others, not as much time alone as maybe we both needed. To now being completely and utterly alone. I have a few friends here, Bryn and my roommates are lovely. I feel bad when I am invited to social events and I just can't be fucked to go. I finally pulled myself together and went to a party that both my roommate and Bryn invited me to, and I felt like an outsider. I felt socially awkward and at one point I looked around and I knew what it was like to be in a room full of people and feel more alone than ever. Everyone knew at least half the people there (it was a crowded party, full of 20-30 somethings) and I knew a total of about three people. And from there I zoned out, where most times I would be social and meet people, I focused on the band playing and let myself wander off into my own little world.
So here I sit, the anti social, social girl, who spends her nights watching Netflix and knitting. I am not always sad, though tears do come to my eyes here or there, sometimes that happens when you are left alone with nothing to do but think. I am training myself to have my mind wander to positive things, to happy memories, but it takes effort and time. But today I realized that there is nothing wrong with this period in my life being anti social. We don't always have to be surrounded by people and doing activities that involve others. I have enjoyed learning to knit, in fact I am sending out three scarves I have knit my friends back home today. And I know that this is just a period in my life, and not my life as a whole. I must learn to be okay being alone again. I must learn to deal with the silence and be at peace with it. I am lucky to be here in Whitehorse, teaching, even if I am not teaching every day. Each day that I am given the opportunity to go in to the classroom has given me hope and strength. Even if I continue to be rejected for opportunities in teaching that I feel I am ready for, I know that it just means it's not my time yet and it's not the right opportunity for me yet. So for now I will embrace the silence and learn to love myself again. For awhile there it was if I was hating myself for things that were beyond my control, for things that were done to me, and not things I have done.
I will make the most of my time here, when I can. I will stay in when I want to stay in and not feel bad for making that decision. I will go outside and do things alone because I like myself enough to do that. The other day it was freezing cold out, and I told myself that I needed to try to embrace the cold. I went on a walking adventure for a little while. Tried to take some pictures and I ended up way past my knees in snow from climbing snow mounds and it was fun. I laughed, I talked to myself, and I froze. And then I went home and curled up in my bed and got back to knitting and Netflix.
I have adventures ahead of me next month, in Dawson and Juneau, and I have my parent's visiting me for a week. And though I choose to leave here in a few month's time, I won't look back at my time here with regret or sadness. This is the time in my life where I am meeting the silence and struggling with it, in order to face myself and figure out what I want out of life and where to go from here. And it is my hope that my next adventure brings me back to my old self, the person who is confident, happy and looks damn good in a dress.
"In the silence, a man learns to be strong. And the silence is not only on the mountain. Somewhere, before he dies, every man must meet it and struggle with it on his own terms. In the silence we must face only ourselves". - Peggy Curry
I have never been one who is unable to make friends easily. As much attitude as I have, and disdain for society and people, I have always been a friendly, social person who has surrounded herself with friends. I grew up going through school, elementary to university, with many different groups of friends. When I look back at high school in particular, I may have been that girl who always had her headphones on, but I had so many different friends in different groups. I don't care to label the groups according to what they were perceived to be by people outside of the group, but there were all kinds of different groups and looking back I was friends with a lot of them. Even going off to university I made friends with many people, those of whom I am still friends with today, even if we live far away from each other. I made some of the best friends I have there.
Then I chose to leave the country, for the first time, by myself, and head off to Australia. I met friends instantly, though to be honest the first friends I met weren't the friends I kept. I find in situations like that you often tend to make friends with the first people you meet, because of circumstances such as where you live or what classes you are taking. The girls who lived next door to me were from Canada, taking the same program as me, and funny enough took the same program as me at Brock University, so it was easy to find things in common and form a friendship. Over time, I realized that I didn't quite fit in with these girls. They were shallow, conniving and just not the kinds of people I would choose to spend my time with. Lucky for me, I lived in a complex that offered me plenty of people to be friends with. So I slowly became friends with other people and joined a group of friends whom I am still friends with today. I never spent that much time alone in Australia, once getting there I had made friends, dated someone and barely spent any time alone in my room, as I do now. It was nice to be social, to always have something to do, somewhere to go, people to hang out with. But at the same time, it was overwhelming to live in that complex full of drama. It was like living in high school. I eventually moved out and made friends with my new roommate Nicole and some of her friends, who I still consider friends of mine to this day. Even living closer to the beach and further from my friends, I still spent more time being social than being alone. And when I was alone, I was wandering around at the beach or in Mooloolaba.
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| Two of my favourites and I at Fraser Island |
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| Beach Days in Mooloolaba with some favourites |
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| This was a great weekend trip with great people. |
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| Ridiculous photoshoots are better with friends involved. |
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| Trip to Melbourne for my 23rd birthday was spent with wonderful friends |
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| Hanging around in Sippy Downs, QLD, with some fine folks |
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| Some of my favourite people I met in Thailand |
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| Friends like Bridget made me do silly things like Karaoke at Loco Elvis :) |
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| Nights like these with Megan are what I miss most |
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| When two of my favourite Aussies came to visit me in Thailand |
Fast forward to today, I tell myself, and others, that I am okay. That spending my time being anti social and alone isn't as bad as it sounds. And in a way it's not. I hate the cold. I have been hibernating from it, because deep down, I have realized, I am a warm climate kind of girl. The cold weather takes me out of my element. I can't wear the clothes I love to wear, it's too cold. I don't feel like myself here. Not to say that the 'clothes make the man' because it is certainly not the case. But I feel like my sense of style has been compromised due to the desire to be warm taking over the desire to be stylish. And I think that is part of the problem. I am not myself. I also am having a hard time trusting. And some may ask why that would hinder my social life, my ability to make new friends. But it has. I have always been cynical and felt it was hard to trust others, mostly guys. But I feel as though lately it has been taken to a whole new level. I don't trust new people at all. I don't trust they are who they say they are. I don't trust that what they tell me is fact. I have always been someone who makes better friends with guys than girls, I don't know why, I can't explain it. That's not to say some of my best friends aren't girls, I have just always spent most my time hanging out with the guys. And now I feel like it's hard to do that. How do you make new friends with guys when you don't trust them? It's hard to trust a guy when he says he just wants to be friends, when he follows that up by telling you how good you look or flirts with you in some way. I have always been flirty, that's just how I am. And I know it is often taken as meaning more than it really does. But when it comes to making friends with guys, no matter how brutally honest I can be, I always feel like they aren't as honest back. And I never believe when they are saying being just friends is fine, ulterior motives are always there. Which gets proven time and time again when guys who claim to be my friends stop talking to me when they get girl friends, or when I finally explicitly tell them I am not interested or looking to date anyone at all, they stop talking to me. Now I am not saying every guy I talk to is interested in me. It's not about me being conceited and thinking they are all attracted to me. It stems from the lack of trust I have in them to be honest with their intentions with me. And I hate it.
So here I am, unable to put my trust in anyone new in my life and not feeling like myself. And I feel alone. I have never felt so alone in my life. I have gone from living with my boyfriend who was around a lot while I was home, otherwise I was out with others, not as much time alone as maybe we both needed. To now being completely and utterly alone. I have a few friends here, Bryn and my roommates are lovely. I feel bad when I am invited to social events and I just can't be fucked to go. I finally pulled myself together and went to a party that both my roommate and Bryn invited me to, and I felt like an outsider. I felt socially awkward and at one point I looked around and I knew what it was like to be in a room full of people and feel more alone than ever. Everyone knew at least half the people there (it was a crowded party, full of 20-30 somethings) and I knew a total of about three people. And from there I zoned out, where most times I would be social and meet people, I focused on the band playing and let myself wander off into my own little world.
So here I sit, the anti social, social girl, who spends her nights watching Netflix and knitting. I am not always sad, though tears do come to my eyes here or there, sometimes that happens when you are left alone with nothing to do but think. I am training myself to have my mind wander to positive things, to happy memories, but it takes effort and time. But today I realized that there is nothing wrong with this period in my life being anti social. We don't always have to be surrounded by people and doing activities that involve others. I have enjoyed learning to knit, in fact I am sending out three scarves I have knit my friends back home today. And I know that this is just a period in my life, and not my life as a whole. I must learn to be okay being alone again. I must learn to deal with the silence and be at peace with it. I am lucky to be here in Whitehorse, teaching, even if I am not teaching every day. Each day that I am given the opportunity to go in to the classroom has given me hope and strength. Even if I continue to be rejected for opportunities in teaching that I feel I am ready for, I know that it just means it's not my time yet and it's not the right opportunity for me yet. So for now I will embrace the silence and learn to love myself again. For awhile there it was if I was hating myself for things that were beyond my control, for things that were done to me, and not things I have done.
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| My knitting for Meghan, check those personalized buttons ;) |
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| Knit this for Heather |
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| And knit this for Vanessa |
I will make the most of my time here, when I can. I will stay in when I want to stay in and not feel bad for making that decision. I will go outside and do things alone because I like myself enough to do that. The other day it was freezing cold out, and I told myself that I needed to try to embrace the cold. I went on a walking adventure for a little while. Tried to take some pictures and I ended up way past my knees in snow from climbing snow mounds and it was fun. I laughed, I talked to myself, and I froze. And then I went home and curled up in my bed and got back to knitting and Netflix.
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| Solo snowy adventures |
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| Chai tea latte, selfie stick, me and snow… |
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| This is Fish Lake |
I have adventures ahead of me next month, in Dawson and Juneau, and I have my parent's visiting me for a week. And though I choose to leave here in a few month's time, I won't look back at my time here with regret or sadness. This is the time in my life where I am meeting the silence and struggling with it, in order to face myself and figure out what I want out of life and where to go from here. And it is my hope that my next adventure brings me back to my old self, the person who is confident, happy and looks damn good in a dress.
Monday, January 19, 2015
the life of a solivagant - GoPro TimeLapse Road Trip Across Canada : Toronto to Whitehorse
When I drove from Toronto to Whitehorse, I had a GoPro camera suction cupped to the inside of my windshield facing outwards; thanks to Ryan generously lending it to me to do so. I set the camera up to see what I saw as I drove, and take a picture every 60 seconds. With those pictures I finally got around to creating a time-lapse video of my road trip moving here. It isn't the best, but I am proud of it nonetheless. It was an incredible drive and I got to really see Canada. And although it rained here and there on my drive, and the video doesn't quite captured how truly beautiful this country is, it captures what I went through perfectly. I chose the song 'You Are A Tourist' by Death Cab for Cutie to be the soundtrack for it, because that is the song I listened to every morning when I got into my car. Here it is:
and if you feel just like a tourist in the city you were born then it's time to go, and define your destination there's so many different places to call home...
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
yukon wildlife preserve
I was lucky enough to first visit the Yukon Wildlife Preserve in the summer when I was up visiting my friend Bryn. It was lovely in the summer to see animals like the arctic fox, caribou, and thinhorn sheep. Bryn and I had a great time wandering around the preserve taking pictures and trying to spot the animals. The good and bad thing about the preserve is that the area for the animals is so vast, that sometimes the animals are in the far back corners of the fenced in area that you can't really see them. Now for pictures, that part kind of sucks. But obviously for the animals this is much better than being stuck in a tiny little caged in area with little room to roam around. The wildlife here is given a a natural environment to live in, which is better for the animals and better for pictures anyways. Speaking of pictures, the views around the wildlife preserve, regardless of the animals, is breathtaking.
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| Mule deer just hanging out in the field in August |
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| Mule Deer |
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| Thinhorn Sheep |
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| Thinhorn Sheep |
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| Elk |
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| One antlered moose |
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| Cute caribou just hanging out on the hill |
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| My favourite picture of the day, the mountain goat hanging out in a pack |
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| Mountain goat |
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| Thinhorn Sheep |
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| Mule deer laying in the snow |
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| Another mule deer laying in the snow |
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| Lazy bison just staring at me |
The craziest thing I noticed was the difference between the arctic fox from the summer to the winter. I had never seen an arctic fox before I came to the Yukon. I never knew much about them either. They have a thick deep fur, that is brown in the summer and white in the winter. I learned that the arctic fox does not even shiver and get cold until the temperature drops to -70 (Celsius). I think this is my favourite animal that I saw. It is just so small and cute, and I just found it so crazy that when I saw it in August it looked so different than in January, the other day.
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| Arctic fox in August |
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| Arctic fox in January |
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| Strategically placed antler in front of moose area |
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| Bryn and her antlers |
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| Me being a dork with antlers |
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| I mean, how could I not? |
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| Bryn too, cause we are cool kids |
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| This is right at the entrance of the preserve, prime photo op |
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| My favourite antler picture, that view is unreal |
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| Moosing around in my Moose Knuckles jacket |
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| One of those beautiful views I am talking about |
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
new year, new you?
As I sit here alone on the night of New Years, I reflect on all events that have occurred in the last 12 months, and I am grateful for the chance to start a fresh new year in a few hours. I chose to spend New Years alone, not for lack of parties I have been invited to, but for the chance to end my worst year on record by myself, in my own way, on my own terms. I spent the better half of my year catering someone else, when I should have been continuing to be the independent person I have always been. I made the choice to scramble around to save a relationship, that wasn't really worth trying to save. It's funny how we do that, we can feel it slipping away and we grasp at anything to hold on, but when one person checks out, is it really worth being a part of anyways? I have come to that realization lately, that maybe I am in love with the person I fell in love with, but not the person he has become. And that's okay. But what matters is loving yourself more than anything. And I never really did stop loving myself.
So for my new year's night, I choose to sit on my couch, with a movie on, and I have applied to about 10-15 schools overseas for the new school year (August/September 2015) and wrote a strong piece of writing for a writing contest that I have been meaning to enter but never felt inspired to do until tonight. I have also chosen to keep my phone up in my room, away from me, and at some point in the night, or early tomorrow morning, I will deactivate my Facebook account and delete my instagram app. This has been something I have been struggling with on and off, for most of the year really. I enjoy the accessibility of keeping in touch with friends, especially being someone who is constantly moving across the world and/or country. Having met so many people in my life, and in my travels especially, who live so far away, social media has always been a way to keep in touch, without a lot of effort really needed to do so. But in the grand scheme of things, is that really keeping in touch? If we want to keep in touch with someone, for real, do we need to see all they post on Facebook or instagram? Don't get me wrong, I know I post a lot, on both. I enjoy sharing my photos of my adventures, and a selfie or two or three. I am not opposed to that. It's the lack of real communication that I find disheartening. We find out our friends are engaged/pregnant/moving/happy/sad.. and so on, by reading our news feeds. We no longer tell each other on the phone or face to face, everyone will know your news with the click of a mouse. We no longer send letters or postcards, we can easily see pictures from your trip on instagram or read about your life in your Facebook status. We torture ourselves with creeping people's social media that we really don't actually want to look at. And even if we don't creep, it's rubbed in our faces in other ways. We can't escape it. No matter what we do, we know everything about everyone, even the people we would rather avoid. And that's the way the world works right now. And some may say I am hypocritical to complain, as I sit and write personal information on this very blog, and maybe you are right. But I choose to write about my journey because I enjoy the art of writing. I don't believe this is the equivalent to a personal Facebook status that some would say is "TMI". Or a revealing selfie showing off a little more of my body than should be shared on instagram.
It bothers me a little that some people may think I deleted them as a way to seek attention, or what have you. It bothers me that some people are probably talking about me right now saying 'did you see Sara is deleting her social media? I bet it's because… (whatever reason you may be thinking)' or 'I don't think Sara will last very long off social media'. And that's fair. Everyone is welcome to judge me as they please. I do use social media quite a bit. I enjoy sharing my adventures through pictures on instagram, especially having improved upon my photography skills. I enjoy sharing the things my students say to me that I find amusing, as I know others will too. I post a lot, and I am not ashamed of it. There is nothing wrong with that. So if you are on social media, post away. As long as you are posting in a positive way. There's a tendency to use social media negatively. I see people posting pictures of strangers in order to judge their choices publicly. Some people choose to post things to incite jealousy in others. Some people choose to social media bully others, using hashtags to insult others or what have you. For those of you who do this, I ask of you to rethink your decisions on social media. Spread positivity, karma is real.
Back to the point, as I made my declarations of cleansing myself of social media in the new year for as long as I choose to do so, I was pleased to find my email and phone with messages of support from friends and acquaintances alike. They say it is not only the people liking your pictures/statuses and such that are paying attention, and they are right. It was nice to get messages of support from some friends who I would expect it from, and from others who are more unlikely. It made me feel like maybe social media does connect people a little more than I thought it did. Maybe once I cleanse myself for my own reasons, and feel comfortable in returning to the realm of social media, I will work on making a change. I will not let it dictate my life in any way. I will use it to spread positivity and use it as a way to connect with others on a more meaningful level.
But until then, tonight I will bid farewell to social media and all things associated. I will live in real time, real life. I will write blogs of my adventures, my travels. I will add pictures to share the beauty of the places I go and things I see. I will never stop taking pictures of the places and I go and the things I see, but I will be more cautious of why I am sharing it and who for.
So Happy New Year to those who may read this. Thank you for reading my blog and sharing in my journey with me. Here's to starting the first day of 2015 with the person who I love most, me :)
So for my new year's night, I choose to sit on my couch, with a movie on, and I have applied to about 10-15 schools overseas for the new school year (August/September 2015) and wrote a strong piece of writing for a writing contest that I have been meaning to enter but never felt inspired to do until tonight. I have also chosen to keep my phone up in my room, away from me, and at some point in the night, or early tomorrow morning, I will deactivate my Facebook account and delete my instagram app. This has been something I have been struggling with on and off, for most of the year really. I enjoy the accessibility of keeping in touch with friends, especially being someone who is constantly moving across the world and/or country. Having met so many people in my life, and in my travels especially, who live so far away, social media has always been a way to keep in touch, without a lot of effort really needed to do so. But in the grand scheme of things, is that really keeping in touch? If we want to keep in touch with someone, for real, do we need to see all they post on Facebook or instagram? Don't get me wrong, I know I post a lot, on both. I enjoy sharing my photos of my adventures, and a selfie or two or three. I am not opposed to that. It's the lack of real communication that I find disheartening. We find out our friends are engaged/pregnant/moving/happy/sad.. and so on, by reading our news feeds. We no longer tell each other on the phone or face to face, everyone will know your news with the click of a mouse. We no longer send letters or postcards, we can easily see pictures from your trip on instagram or read about your life in your Facebook status. We torture ourselves with creeping people's social media that we really don't actually want to look at. And even if we don't creep, it's rubbed in our faces in other ways. We can't escape it. No matter what we do, we know everything about everyone, even the people we would rather avoid. And that's the way the world works right now. And some may say I am hypocritical to complain, as I sit and write personal information on this very blog, and maybe you are right. But I choose to write about my journey because I enjoy the art of writing. I don't believe this is the equivalent to a personal Facebook status that some would say is "TMI". Or a revealing selfie showing off a little more of my body than should be shared on instagram.
It bothers me a little that some people may think I deleted them as a way to seek attention, or what have you. It bothers me that some people are probably talking about me right now saying 'did you see Sara is deleting her social media? I bet it's because… (whatever reason you may be thinking)' or 'I don't think Sara will last very long off social media'. And that's fair. Everyone is welcome to judge me as they please. I do use social media quite a bit. I enjoy sharing my adventures through pictures on instagram, especially having improved upon my photography skills. I enjoy sharing the things my students say to me that I find amusing, as I know others will too. I post a lot, and I am not ashamed of it. There is nothing wrong with that. So if you are on social media, post away. As long as you are posting in a positive way. There's a tendency to use social media negatively. I see people posting pictures of strangers in order to judge their choices publicly. Some people choose to post things to incite jealousy in others. Some people choose to social media bully others, using hashtags to insult others or what have you. For those of you who do this, I ask of you to rethink your decisions on social media. Spread positivity, karma is real.
Back to the point, as I made my declarations of cleansing myself of social media in the new year for as long as I choose to do so, I was pleased to find my email and phone with messages of support from friends and acquaintances alike. They say it is not only the people liking your pictures/statuses and such that are paying attention, and they are right. It was nice to get messages of support from some friends who I would expect it from, and from others who are more unlikely. It made me feel like maybe social media does connect people a little more than I thought it did. Maybe once I cleanse myself for my own reasons, and feel comfortable in returning to the realm of social media, I will work on making a change. I will not let it dictate my life in any way. I will use it to spread positivity and use it as a way to connect with others on a more meaningful level.
But until then, tonight I will bid farewell to social media and all things associated. I will live in real time, real life. I will write blogs of my adventures, my travels. I will add pictures to share the beauty of the places I go and things I see. I will never stop taking pictures of the places and I go and the things I see, but I will be more cautious of why I am sharing it and who for.
So Happy New Year to those who may read this. Thank you for reading my blog and sharing in my journey with me. Here's to starting the first day of 2015 with the person who I love most, me :)
Sunday, December 7, 2014
writing on writing
Why do you write? Why do I write? Why do writers write? Some writers right for entertainment purposes. Some write for informative purposes. Some write to present findings in studies. Some write about others. Some write about themselves. Some write fiction. Some write non-fiction. There are many reasons why writers write. And I by no means consider myself a writer, but I have my own reasons too.
When I started this blog, I wanted it to be about my life, my experiences, my travels. I started writing it as a means to write about what I go through in my adventures. It ended up taking a more personal turn than I had originally planned. And I will never truly apologize for that. It is my writing, and my blog, and I do not believe we should ever be sorry for what we write. We should never feel like censoring what we chose to write about. But I also would never want to hurt or defame anyone. That would never be my intentions.
I am going through a very emotional period in my life. For some reason, writing in this blog has been helping me through it. It has been therapeutic and cathartic to me. It is helping me make sense of the pain inside me that my head and heart just don't seem to be able to sort out for themselves. I still hurt on a daily basis. Whether I show it or not, through my every day appearance, writing, pictures or whatever else makes up my life, I am in constant emotional pain. I try to make sense of it by writing about it. And it may not be the socially acceptable way of dealing with it. It may not be how you, or others you know, deal with it. But it is how I have chosen to deal with it, because it helps me. I have never been one to do things the way I am told is better or right. I will always march to the beat of my own drum, because I truly do not care what you think of me as a result of the way I chose to do things.
When I write about my ex, and what I am going through, I don't do this for people to feel sorry for me. To sympathize with me. I don't do this for people to hate him. I don't hate him, so why should anyone else? He is a wonderful person, if he wasn't, I wouldn't be trying to maintain some form of friendship with him at this point. It wouldn't be so hard for me right now if he was a complete asshole and a horrible person. The reason I write about the experience I am going through with him, is merely a means to understanding why I am here. Why I moved to the other side of the world to get away from it all. Why it makes me anxious to go home. Why I can't seem to cut him out of my life, when every one I know tells me it would be easier or better that way. I would never want my writing to be taken as cheap shots at him. Or ways to make others dislike him. I write my experiences, my feelings and my thoughts. If you read it, you will notice a theme. A theme of love. Regardless of what has happened between us, I still love the guy. And maybe some think I should be over that by now, and maybe some might think that I am pathetic. And maybe I am. But this is just my story. I am not perfect. I never claimed to be. I have always been nothing but honest and open.
I am an emotional person. I always have been. As I sit here and write this, the tears pour down my face because I have just never been able to hold them back when they form in my eyes. This has been a very hard year for me. I have never felt so vulnerable, alone and insecure in my life. And I am trying to find a way back to the independent, strong person I was. I know she is in there somewhere. She is just hurting and trying to make sense of how she got so lost.
So to everyone out there writing, I say write on. Write what you feel. Write what you know. Write for whatever reasons you have to write. Whether it's for an audience, or yourself, or both. Others will judge you for everything you do in life, so write on if you have something you care to write about. And never apologize for your writing. My sister told me that. And she's right. Not everyone will like it. Not everyone will hate it. But if writing serves the purpose you intend, write on.
When I started this blog, I wanted it to be about my life, my experiences, my travels. I started writing it as a means to write about what I go through in my adventures. It ended up taking a more personal turn than I had originally planned. And I will never truly apologize for that. It is my writing, and my blog, and I do not believe we should ever be sorry for what we write. We should never feel like censoring what we chose to write about. But I also would never want to hurt or defame anyone. That would never be my intentions.
I am going through a very emotional period in my life. For some reason, writing in this blog has been helping me through it. It has been therapeutic and cathartic to me. It is helping me make sense of the pain inside me that my head and heart just don't seem to be able to sort out for themselves. I still hurt on a daily basis. Whether I show it or not, through my every day appearance, writing, pictures or whatever else makes up my life, I am in constant emotional pain. I try to make sense of it by writing about it. And it may not be the socially acceptable way of dealing with it. It may not be how you, or others you know, deal with it. But it is how I have chosen to deal with it, because it helps me. I have never been one to do things the way I am told is better or right. I will always march to the beat of my own drum, because I truly do not care what you think of me as a result of the way I chose to do things.
When I write about my ex, and what I am going through, I don't do this for people to feel sorry for me. To sympathize with me. I don't do this for people to hate him. I don't hate him, so why should anyone else? He is a wonderful person, if he wasn't, I wouldn't be trying to maintain some form of friendship with him at this point. It wouldn't be so hard for me right now if he was a complete asshole and a horrible person. The reason I write about the experience I am going through with him, is merely a means to understanding why I am here. Why I moved to the other side of the world to get away from it all. Why it makes me anxious to go home. Why I can't seem to cut him out of my life, when every one I know tells me it would be easier or better that way. I would never want my writing to be taken as cheap shots at him. Or ways to make others dislike him. I write my experiences, my feelings and my thoughts. If you read it, you will notice a theme. A theme of love. Regardless of what has happened between us, I still love the guy. And maybe some think I should be over that by now, and maybe some might think that I am pathetic. And maybe I am. But this is just my story. I am not perfect. I never claimed to be. I have always been nothing but honest and open.
I am an emotional person. I always have been. As I sit here and write this, the tears pour down my face because I have just never been able to hold them back when they form in my eyes. This has been a very hard year for me. I have never felt so vulnerable, alone and insecure in my life. And I am trying to find a way back to the independent, strong person I was. I know she is in there somewhere. She is just hurting and trying to make sense of how she got so lost.
So to everyone out there writing, I say write on. Write what you feel. Write what you know. Write for whatever reasons you have to write. Whether it's for an audience, or yourself, or both. Others will judge you for everything you do in life, so write on if you have something you care to write about. And never apologize for your writing. My sister told me that. And she's right. Not everyone will like it. Not everyone will hate it. But if writing serves the purpose you intend, write on.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
anxiety on flight 288
I have never had a problem flying. No anxiety. No discomfort. I've flown across the world, more than once. Had multiple layovers, long flights. Not once have I ever been scared or anxious. Maybe tired or bored, but I am a good flyer. This past weekend I flew home to surprise my mother and grandmother for my grandmother's 90th birthday. It was a short trip of two days, and a long flight for such a short one.
So I arrive at the airport, having had a horrible sleep the night before. It's 4:45am, I arrive just as they are starting to check people in, only to find out the computers aren't working and they have to check everyone in manually. With an hour to my flight, I knew I would be missing my connecting flight. As I approached the counter, they tell me that I no longer have the seat I chose and I will have to go get my luggage in Vancouver, and then get my next boarding pass and recheck my luggage. I could feel the anxiety getting worse. It was like there was an air pump in my lungs but instead of pumping in air, it was sucking it out. As I waited in the airport to board my flight, I saw my take off time, come and go. After over a hour, we finally boarded and took off. That flight, one of the shortest I've done. Was one of the hardest. As I sat in my seat, I felt the walls closing is around me. I made a beeline for the washroom and spent the next however many minutes (I lost track) having a full blown anxiety attack. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I was crying. I was curled in a ball on a dirty airplane bathroom floor all alone. And I didn't know what to do. How to stop it. Until I finally just knew I had to get a grip and let it pass. I don't know how long I was in there for, but I came out of there with air in my lungs. But anxiety filled me, down to my core.
After I made it back to the gate, I listened to the names called out that were on standby. Name after name, I got more anxious and sweaty. I bet I looked super suspicious and weird. I heard a few names called more than once until finally I was the last name called before boarding. I was finally heading home.
The weeks leading up to this flight home I was feeling anxious. I recently learned my ex, whom I can't stop loving no matter how hard I try, has his new Australian girlfriend moving to Canada to be with him in a few months. The thought of this makes me not want to return home at all. Without getting into the whole back story of the two of them, it makes me anxious. Every time I think about going home again, the thought of running into the two of them makes me unable to breathe. I like to think I'm a stronger person than that but apparently I am not as strong as I pretend to be. Regardless what I've been told, I will never truly believe I wasn't left for the foreign girl who seemed much more appealing than working on a great relationship that clearly only meant something to one of us. So here in lies my anxiety. I try to meditate. I try to exercise my demons out. But the anxiety takes over every time I think about going home.
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| Flight from Vancouver to Whitehorse, window seats are the best |
I arrived in Vancouver as my connecting flight took off, but I was lucky enough to have my luggage come out first. I ran to reprint my boarding pass for my next flight, which had already been rescheduled to 30 mins after my original. By the time I got up to recheck my bags, that flight left too. So now I was told I was being out on standby and that I can go sit for two hours at one gate and wait, and if they don't call my name before they board, I do the same at the next gate, and the next, and so on. I walked to the gate. Sat down. And all of the sudden I felt it again. The same feeling I had on the plane. The walls were closing in. I got up and quickly walked to the bathroom and let the walls of the stall close in on me. I was shaking. I couldn't catch my breath. Because of this, I almost choked. This time I felt like my heart was beating out of my chest. I sweat through my sweatshirt. I had never been through this before and I can't imagine going through it again. I spent most my layover in a bathroom stall trying to get a grip on reality.
 |
| Flight from Vancouver to Whitehorse |
This flight went smoother than the last. I didn't freak out. That is until the plane landed and everyone got up to get off. I felt claustrophobic for the first time. All I wanted to do was get off that plane. I started shaking a bit and just trying to take deep breaths to stop myself from not being able to breathe. And as I stepped off my plane, I turn on my phone to have the first text I receive be the person who made me anxious to come home in the first place. I want to say it was comforting but it wasn't. I wish I could've ignored it. But I couldn't. It's funny how things happen this way.
So here I am, back to my 'home' after a week home. My flight back here, much easier. And I continue my efforts to meditate and exercise to work through the anxiety in hopes that my flight home for Christmas in less than two weeks is much less stressful. Here's hoping for a smoother day of flying.
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| Flight from Vancouver to Whitehorse |
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