I love to run!
My love of running has developed slowly but surely over the past several years. I first learned that I could run when I was in grade eight. For PE we all had to run six laps of the track, and having never run more than about two laps before - due to my insistence that, if anything, I was a sprinter (which most definitely was not the case) - I had no idea what was going to happen. I ended up finishing second in my class, after a girl whose legs were the length of my body, and suddenly I was a 'long-distance runner'. (Nevermind the fact that 2.4 kilometers hardly qualifies as 'long-distance'.) Due to the unfortunate coincidence that my PE teacher at the time was also my track coach, I spent the rest of high school running cross-country races in the Fall and 800, 1500, and 3000 meter races at track events in the Spring. I did a decent job, but I hated it, and preferred to put my time and energy into school and dance. It didn't help that I was forced against my will - even in those seasons when I refused to go to practices, the coach still insisted that I go to the meets. I would never run on my own time either, but then would find myself lined up at a start line amidst a bunch of other fourteen year old girls in their weird track cleats and intricate braids. I was not happy. So high school was the start of my relationship with running - but it was a rocky start. I was starting to get to know it, but really didn't like it.
In university, I had to start working out of my own accord. There were no more dance classes, field hockey practices, or soccer games to keep me in shape by accident, and I needed to stay active. The gym was good for some things, but what I really wanted was to be outside. And so I started running voluntarily. I had no idea how fast or how far I was running, but I'd work up a sweat and feel good about myself. I still found running to be pretty boring, but at least it had a purpose for me this time. It was keeping me in shape. So running developed from something I despised to something I found useful. It kept my legs toned and my cardio in check, and I got some fresh air and sun along the way. I still didn't love running, but I was beginning to value it.
Last year, I decided I wanted to run a half-marathon. That goal came out of the blue, driven by my competitive spirit when a few girls I knew told me that they would be running the 21.1 kilometers around Vancouver in August. I signed up completely on a whim, and drew up my own sad little training plan based around my LSAT study guide. I spent all of April-July alternating between LSAT practice questions and long runs up and down hills in the summer sun. Training for that half marathon was an interesting revolution in my relationship with running. Unlike high school, I'd chosen voluntarily to run a race. And unlike the previous couple years, the goal wasn't to simply stay in shape and get a work out. However, I still wasn't really loving running. I was doing this to compete, pure and simple. But I wasn't even doing it for myself, I was doing it for my boyfriend. I didn't want to, or need to, show off to him, but I wanted to show off for him. I was always bragging about him to my family and friends and I wanted him to have something to be proud of me for. I thought that maybe running could be that thing. I ended up running a pretty good race considering my complete lack of experience, and it worked: we were both proud of me. Yet my relationship with running remained stagnant. It had served its purpose, but I didn't love it.
Despite my cry when I crossed the finish line - "I am never doing that again!" - I almost immediately registered for two more half marathons for the following summer. The sense of accomplishment that overcomes your body and mind when you've pushed yourself to your limits is something that needs to be felt again once you've experienced it once. I ran regularly throughout the Fall and Winter, but didn't take it too seriously until the upcoming race was a couple months away. This time frame just happened to coincide with my life falling to pieces, and suddenly my relationship with running reached a new height. Running was one of my best friends when I was all of a sudden alone and confused and overwhelmed. To be able to go outside and run anywhere, being totally alone and allowing my mind to either think or not think as my body exhausts itself, is completely amazing, and helped me through many rough days. I was falling in love with running.
My first half marathon of the year was a couple weeks ago, and that was a big day for me. I thought I was ready to run the race, but in the day leading up to the run I was depressed. Last year, I ran it for my boyfriend, who cooked me dinner the night before and got up early to drive me to the start line, and who ran almost as much as I did that day so that he'd be able to cheer me on along the way, because I wanted him to be proud of me. Now, I was standing at the start line, alone in a crowd of 10,000 people, with nobody to run this race for. Just like the year before, my family was waiting along the route with signs and cheers to keep me going, but I still felt lost, because my purpose for running was gone. I didn't want to do it, and I must have looked pretty dejected because people I didn't know were patting me on the back and telling me, "Don't worry! You'll finish!" I wasn't worried if I could finish the run or not, I was confused. Why was I doing this?
It wasn't until about ten seconds before the race began that I finally realized I was going to have to do this for myself. I was going to run because I want to, and I enjoy it, and I can do it on my own. So that's what I did. It wasn't a pretty run - I hurt my knee after about only four kilometers and spent the rest of the race nauseous and limping - but it was still amazing. Not only did I not stop, but I actually finished faster than I did last time. I proved to myself that I can do these things on my own, and, just as importantly, I fell in love with running for the sake of running. Not as a work out, and not as a competition, but as something that I enjoy purely for the feelings it gives me.
Now, I love running. We have a great relationship. I don't run simply because it keeps me in shape. And I don't run just because I can compete. I run because it is what I love to do. It calms me down when I'm upset. It gives me energy when I'm tired. It releases tension and stress, and emphasizes excitement and purpose. It allows me to clear my head and organize my thoughts, to make plans, to let my mind wander. It keeps me company. It lets me be alone. Most of all, I love running because it is through running that I learned how much I am capable of, all on my own.
Friday, 17 May 2013
Thursday, 2 May 2013
Happy Things
With my new routine (or lack thereof) that has taken hold over the past couple weeks, I've noticed that the days tend to blend together. I find myself thinking that Thursday is Tuesday and the weekend was both yesterday and tomorrow, because there's no class schedule with which I can differentiate Monday from Friday and everything in between and beyond. Because I write absolutely everything down on a calendar (yes - a piece of paper with a calendar drawn on it) that I carry around with me, I do still end up making it to all my events, appointments, and shifts. The concern isn't so much about remembering where to go, but more about creating memories to hold on to. When I can't tell myself that on Wednesday I went to two English classes then met a friend for lunch on my way to work (as I used to do every Wednesday), I find that I completely draw a blank on what Wednesday held for me, and it takes me several seconds to conjure up a memory of a day that was unstructured and out of the ordinary (as all my days are now).
My friend and I were browsing the adorable little knick-knack shops of Granville Island this afternoon, and in a stationary store we found a journal that we both loved. The front said "One Line a Day" and the inside had a space to write down one line a day for five years, with the idea that this line would sum up the best part of that day and would be a memory jog for years to come. We both thought this was a brilliant idea (we just didn't think that the price tag of $18.95 for a bunch of lined paper between two pieces of cardboard was so brilliant).
I was thinking about that little journal long after we dropped it like a hot potato and ran, and realizing that it could be the perfect solution to my current problem. Except, I want to take it up a notch. Instead of just writing one line, I'm going to write a list at the end of every day of all the good things that happened to me in the past twenty four hours. It's my little twist on a combination of "One Line a Day" and Oprah's Gratitude Journal. It can be big things or small things, and the list will definitely be longer some days than others. My one rule for myself, though, is that I'm not going to sit there thinking about it - I'm just going to jot down a quick list of all the things that have made me happy today. I feel like this will do great things for me.
So let's start right now.
What made me happy today?
1) I spent the morning replying to emails from past professors who not only want to write me reference letters for grad school but also actually asked if they could help me with my entire application to ensure I get accepted. This made me grateful because I went to such a great university, with an amazing English department that has professors who go above and beyond.
2) My friend and I spent the afternoon walking along Kits Beach to Granville Island, where we meandered aimlessly for hours before walking up to South Granville where we browsed in one of my favourite places - Chapters. This made me grateful for so many things: a wonderful friendship, an absolutely incredible city to call home, and beautiful Spring weather.
3) I started redecorating my apartment! (Sidenote - As my apartment has emptied out over the past week or so, I've become increasingly anxious. When we first moved in here, we did a massive bulk shop at Ikea, and the place was filled with all of the essentials in one day. That is just not feasible for me this time around, which made me very uneasy, until my mom pointed out to me that accumulating items one at a time is much more rewarding and satisfying than all at once. This way, I only buy pieces that I really love and that are great deals. So, today I bought a gorgeous lamp that I absolutely love, and it was on sale! Sure, I still don't have a bed...but I have a lamp that was 50% off and has tassels wrapped around the stand and a beautiful bronze shade, and that makes both me and my wallet smile.) This made me grateful for a fresh start in which I can do things for myself and by myself.
4) I went out with my mom and my sister for dinner, and we enjoyed a girls night with Mexican food and margaritas. This made me grateful for family, girl time, salsa, and tequila.
Well I can tell you all first-hand, right off the bat, that this little exercise definitely plasters on a smile and makes an awesome day one that won't easily be forgotten. Try it!
My friend and I were browsing the adorable little knick-knack shops of Granville Island this afternoon, and in a stationary store we found a journal that we both loved. The front said "One Line a Day" and the inside had a space to write down one line a day for five years, with the idea that this line would sum up the best part of that day and would be a memory jog for years to come. We both thought this was a brilliant idea (we just didn't think that the price tag of $18.95 for a bunch of lined paper between two pieces of cardboard was so brilliant).
I was thinking about that little journal long after we dropped it like a hot potato and ran, and realizing that it could be the perfect solution to my current problem. Except, I want to take it up a notch. Instead of just writing one line, I'm going to write a list at the end of every day of all the good things that happened to me in the past twenty four hours. It's my little twist on a combination of "One Line a Day" and Oprah's Gratitude Journal. It can be big things or small things, and the list will definitely be longer some days than others. My one rule for myself, though, is that I'm not going to sit there thinking about it - I'm just going to jot down a quick list of all the things that have made me happy today. I feel like this will do great things for me.
So let's start right now.
What made me happy today?
1) I spent the morning replying to emails from past professors who not only want to write me reference letters for grad school but also actually asked if they could help me with my entire application to ensure I get accepted. This made me grateful because I went to such a great university, with an amazing English department that has professors who go above and beyond.
2) My friend and I spent the afternoon walking along Kits Beach to Granville Island, where we meandered aimlessly for hours before walking up to South Granville where we browsed in one of my favourite places - Chapters. This made me grateful for so many things: a wonderful friendship, an absolutely incredible city to call home, and beautiful Spring weather.
3) I started redecorating my apartment! (Sidenote - As my apartment has emptied out over the past week or so, I've become increasingly anxious. When we first moved in here, we did a massive bulk shop at Ikea, and the place was filled with all of the essentials in one day. That is just not feasible for me this time around, which made me very uneasy, until my mom pointed out to me that accumulating items one at a time is much more rewarding and satisfying than all at once. This way, I only buy pieces that I really love and that are great deals. So, today I bought a gorgeous lamp that I absolutely love, and it was on sale! Sure, I still don't have a bed...but I have a lamp that was 50% off and has tassels wrapped around the stand and a beautiful bronze shade, and that makes both me and my wallet smile.) This made me grateful for a fresh start in which I can do things for myself and by myself.
4) I went out with my mom and my sister for dinner, and we enjoyed a girls night with Mexican food and margaritas. This made me grateful for family, girl time, salsa, and tequila.
Well I can tell you all first-hand, right off the bat, that this little exercise definitely plasters on a smile and makes an awesome day one that won't easily be forgotten. Try it!
Wednesday, 1 May 2013
Routine
With the end of the semester comes a complete loss of routine. Add to the fact that the past month and a half not only brought me to the end of my four year university career but also carried me from living with my boyfriend to living on my own, and the change in my daily rituals becomes increasingly dramatic. My weekdays used to go a little something like the following: get up to say good bye to the boyfriend before he goes to work, go back to bed for half an hour, get up at 8:00 so I can watch Rachel Ray while eating breakfast and cleaning the kitchen, head off to two or three classes, go to work, meet the boyfriend at home, go for a work out together, come home and make dinner, watch The Sopranos, then bed. It was a pretty solid routine that had minor variations thrown in throughout the week. And I was very comfortable with it.
For the past couple weeks, my weekdays have been going a little something like this: roll off the couch (currently my bed) at whatever time the sun happens to peek through the curtains, put on a pot of coffee, forget about the coffee for over an hour as I lie back down in my makeshift bed to reply to emails and dreamily browse the Ikea website, remember the coffee and finally get up to make breakfast, eventually make it out of the house for a run, go shower before meeting a friend for a coffee date or a walk, find some lunch once I realize I'm hungry, go to work at whatever random time I've been scheduled for that day, come home and make dinner while I watch The New Adventures of Old Christine on my laptop (currently my TV), find some cheap way for my friends and I to amuse ourselves, then bed.
It's not a very solid routine. I wake up at a different time every morning and go to bed at a different time every night. My work shifts are all over the place. My running routine is inconsistent. Everything is a mess! Without any classes to schedule my day around, everything falls apart. And with nobody at home to keep me on track with eating breakfast at breakfast time and so on, my days are very unstructured. I've never not been a student before! And I've never lived completely alone before! This is way too much freedom for my liking.
There is something to be said for a flexible schedule, but I think there is much more to be said for a routine. That's just my personality - I become a little unhinged when I realize it's 9:00am and I have not yet downed my two cups of coffee and moved on to my first of eight bottles of water for the day. (Okay, maybe that's a little more obsessive than merely valuing a routine. But that's an issue to be explored another day.) Basically, I can only take so many days of this freedom. It's time for a routine again! And I figure the first of the month is the perfect time to get back into the swing of things. It will be a completely different type of routine than I've ever had before - no classes, no study time, no working around my boyfriend's work schedule or training schedule. But that's okay! It's time for a totally new routine. One that is based completely on me, myself, and I.
For the past couple weeks, my weekdays have been going a little something like this: roll off the couch (currently my bed) at whatever time the sun happens to peek through the curtains, put on a pot of coffee, forget about the coffee for over an hour as I lie back down in my makeshift bed to reply to emails and dreamily browse the Ikea website, remember the coffee and finally get up to make breakfast, eventually make it out of the house for a run, go shower before meeting a friend for a coffee date or a walk, find some lunch once I realize I'm hungry, go to work at whatever random time I've been scheduled for that day, come home and make dinner while I watch The New Adventures of Old Christine on my laptop (currently my TV), find some cheap way for my friends and I to amuse ourselves, then bed.
It's not a very solid routine. I wake up at a different time every morning and go to bed at a different time every night. My work shifts are all over the place. My running routine is inconsistent. Everything is a mess! Without any classes to schedule my day around, everything falls apart. And with nobody at home to keep me on track with eating breakfast at breakfast time and so on, my days are very unstructured. I've never not been a student before! And I've never lived completely alone before! This is way too much freedom for my liking.
There is something to be said for a flexible schedule, but I think there is much more to be said for a routine. That's just my personality - I become a little unhinged when I realize it's 9:00am and I have not yet downed my two cups of coffee and moved on to my first of eight bottles of water for the day. (Okay, maybe that's a little more obsessive than merely valuing a routine. But that's an issue to be explored another day.) Basically, I can only take so many days of this freedom. It's time for a routine again! And I figure the first of the month is the perfect time to get back into the swing of things. It will be a completely different type of routine than I've ever had before - no classes, no study time, no working around my boyfriend's work schedule or training schedule. But that's okay! It's time for a totally new routine. One that is based completely on me, myself, and I.
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
Tired
Well it's 1:00 in the morning and I feel exhausted from staying up late last night and then getting up early this morning to study for MY LAST EVER FINAL, and I want to go to bed, but I feel like this day would not be complete without a blog post.
Usually, I have some idea of what I'm going to say. Most often I don't know where my posts are going to end up, but I at least always know where they are going to start. That's not the case here. So I guess I'll just write something . . .
This month has been a wild ride. It's been full of mistakes, revelations, regrets, confessions, renewals, epiphanies, and promises. It's been full of moments of complete confusion and moments of complete contentment. It's been full of tears and full of smiles. It's been full of stress, sadness, guilt, hope, happiness, surprise, and love. This month has definitely been a transition month, taking me from low to high to low to high as it's carried me from overwhelmed and unsure to confident and stable. It has truly been a month of finding myself. It's been full of changing and growing and learning. And after all of it, I am ready for a fresh start.
And what better time for a fresh start? April is changing to May and Winter is changing to Spring. I just completed the last exam of my degree, and am now finally graduating! I'm moving to my own place once and for all. For the foreseeable future, I have the freedom to do whatever I want to do, and I'm pretty excited about it. The opportunity for a clean break and a fresh start doesn't come around all that often, and maybe I didn't ask for it, but I am definitely savoring it. Anything can happen now, and I'm ready to take it on.
I wish I could offer insightful reflections on these random ideas floating through my head, but my brain is fried. I guess a long day of work after an intense exam, following a grueling exam period, following the most emotionally unstable month of my life, following a demanding semester, which lies at the end of four years of constant thinking and working, can build up to quite the level of exhaustion. I'm going to go sleep, without setting an alarm for the morning (!), and maybe soon I'll be able to string a suitable sentence together.
For now, I leave you with this thought stolen from my grandma's wisdom: If you have faith in yourself, your life will always head in the direction it is meant to go. Nobody knows their destiny, so all you can do is live in the present, making the smartest choices possible and doing your best in that moment. If you do that, your life will undoubtedly unfold in whatever way will result in your greatest happiness.
(This all ties together somehow, I'm just not quite sure how right now.)
Usually, I have some idea of what I'm going to say. Most often I don't know where my posts are going to end up, but I at least always know where they are going to start. That's not the case here. So I guess I'll just write something . . .
This month has been a wild ride. It's been full of mistakes, revelations, regrets, confessions, renewals, epiphanies, and promises. It's been full of moments of complete confusion and moments of complete contentment. It's been full of tears and full of smiles. It's been full of stress, sadness, guilt, hope, happiness, surprise, and love. This month has definitely been a transition month, taking me from low to high to low to high as it's carried me from overwhelmed and unsure to confident and stable. It has truly been a month of finding myself. It's been full of changing and growing and learning. And after all of it, I am ready for a fresh start.
And what better time for a fresh start? April is changing to May and Winter is changing to Spring. I just completed the last exam of my degree, and am now finally graduating! I'm moving to my own place once and for all. For the foreseeable future, I have the freedom to do whatever I want to do, and I'm pretty excited about it. The opportunity for a clean break and a fresh start doesn't come around all that often, and maybe I didn't ask for it, but I am definitely savoring it. Anything can happen now, and I'm ready to take it on.
I wish I could offer insightful reflections on these random ideas floating through my head, but my brain is fried. I guess a long day of work after an intense exam, following a grueling exam period, following the most emotionally unstable month of my life, following a demanding semester, which lies at the end of four years of constant thinking and working, can build up to quite the level of exhaustion. I'm going to go sleep, without setting an alarm for the morning (!), and maybe soon I'll be able to string a suitable sentence together.
For now, I leave you with this thought stolen from my grandma's wisdom: If you have faith in yourself, your life will always head in the direction it is meant to go. Nobody knows their destiny, so all you can do is live in the present, making the smartest choices possible and doing your best in that moment. If you do that, your life will undoubtedly unfold in whatever way will result in your greatest happiness.
(This all ties together somehow, I'm just not quite sure how right now.)
Thursday, 4 April 2013
The End is Near
On the eve of my last day of classes as an undergraduate at UBC, I should be editing the term paper I have due tomorrow while gearing up for Block Party (the end of year bbq/beer garden/outdoor concert taking place tomorrow that is always a weird mixture of going all out to celebrate the last day of class while subconsciously knowing that the next morning cannot be too rough as it brings the start of a solid two and a half weeks of studying for exams). Instead, I find myself cuddled on my couch with a blanket, a G&T, and Friends playing in the background as I compose yet another blog post.
It is a strange feeling to know that tomorrow is my last day of classes. For the past four years, I have spent five days a week on campus, walking from one Buchanan room to the next where I listen to the experts who I have revered spewing all sorts of information at me as I furiously scribble notes in an effort to remember their words forever. I am not one of those students who was always dying to be done with school and is having a panic attack now that the end is near and I've realized I'll actually have to start working full time. I am one of those students who has enjoyed school from the beginning because I love learning for the sake of learning. I have genuinely appreciated every moment I've had in the classroom, and have even been grateful for those moments spent outside of the classroom, in the library and at home, toiling over papers and sweating through studying. As somebody who has studied the importance of education, and who has even travelled to places far away to witness the consequences of a lack of education first hand, I know that it is something that should never be taken for granted, and I have always been thankful for the education I've been able to receive. I have loved every minute of it, and don't really want it to end . . .
However, I think that graduating will be a great opportunity to start experiencing new ways of learning. Education doesn't always need to happen in a classroom. Work and travel can bring similar rewards. Now that UBC is forcing me out, I can take the opportunity to go learn in a variety of different avenues, and start checking some things off my bucket list. I'll miss being a student, but the absence of a label brings the freedom to be anything and go anywhere. And all the skills I learned at university will benefit me in whatever I do.
A lot of people ask me what I learned in the past four years. Sometimes this is a polite question. (So what's your favourite thing that you learned at UBC?) Sometimes this is a skeptical question. (Did you even learn anything useful at UBC?) Sometimes this is a curious question. (So what exactly did you learn at UBC?) The question always seems to be looking for a specific answer, like "I learned how responsibilities are divided between the federal and provincial governments" or "I learned how Margaret Thatcher influenced British literature in the 1980s" or "I learned the intricacies of the nuclear disarmament debate" or "I learned how to write a fifteen page research paper in three days" or "I learned the meaning of life." It's true that I did learn all these things (except maybe that last one) and so much more. But that's not what I value about my time at UBC. When people ask me any one of those questions, I tell them that I learned how to think.
The university setting is an interesting one, because you are being handed loads of information that you are forced to process, memorize, and understand, yet also criticize. Every opinion, every side to the argument, is always explored and torn apart. It is so interesting to constantly be thinking with an open and accepting mind, assuming that every answer could be the right answer, while simultaneously finding every weakness of that point and ripping it to shreds. Thinking with both an open and a critical mind is something that has to be learned. It isn't natural to want to see the best and worst of every side to the debate, and it takes time and practice to recognize that no issue is black and white, but that every argument is valid in its own right. You can pick a side, but you have to acknowledge that there will always be somebody on the opposing side, and they think you are just as wrong as you think they are. My past four years of school demonstrated to me that when it comes to thinking, I have to be both accepting yet critical of every claim, even my own, and that is what I am taking away from my university experience. It will, I hope, benefit every aspect of my life.
I have loved my time at UBC and I expect that knowing how to think productively will empower me in endeavors outside of the classroom. However, I can't get too far ahead of myself yet. I still have two classes, two papers, four exams, and one graduation ceremony to get through. Here we go . . .
It is a strange feeling to know that tomorrow is my last day of classes. For the past four years, I have spent five days a week on campus, walking from one Buchanan room to the next where I listen to the experts who I have revered spewing all sorts of information at me as I furiously scribble notes in an effort to remember their words forever. I am not one of those students who was always dying to be done with school and is having a panic attack now that the end is near and I've realized I'll actually have to start working full time. I am one of those students who has enjoyed school from the beginning because I love learning for the sake of learning. I have genuinely appreciated every moment I've had in the classroom, and have even been grateful for those moments spent outside of the classroom, in the library and at home, toiling over papers and sweating through studying. As somebody who has studied the importance of education, and who has even travelled to places far away to witness the consequences of a lack of education first hand, I know that it is something that should never be taken for granted, and I have always been thankful for the education I've been able to receive. I have loved every minute of it, and don't really want it to end . . .
However, I think that graduating will be a great opportunity to start experiencing new ways of learning. Education doesn't always need to happen in a classroom. Work and travel can bring similar rewards. Now that UBC is forcing me out, I can take the opportunity to go learn in a variety of different avenues, and start checking some things off my bucket list. I'll miss being a student, but the absence of a label brings the freedom to be anything and go anywhere. And all the skills I learned at university will benefit me in whatever I do.
A lot of people ask me what I learned in the past four years. Sometimes this is a polite question. (So what's your favourite thing that you learned at UBC?) Sometimes this is a skeptical question. (Did you even learn anything useful at UBC?) Sometimes this is a curious question. (So what exactly did you learn at UBC?) The question always seems to be looking for a specific answer, like "I learned how responsibilities are divided between the federal and provincial governments" or "I learned how Margaret Thatcher influenced British literature in the 1980s" or "I learned the intricacies of the nuclear disarmament debate" or "I learned how to write a fifteen page research paper in three days" or "I learned the meaning of life." It's true that I did learn all these things (except maybe that last one) and so much more. But that's not what I value about my time at UBC. When people ask me any one of those questions, I tell them that I learned how to think.
The university setting is an interesting one, because you are being handed loads of information that you are forced to process, memorize, and understand, yet also criticize. Every opinion, every side to the argument, is always explored and torn apart. It is so interesting to constantly be thinking with an open and accepting mind, assuming that every answer could be the right answer, while simultaneously finding every weakness of that point and ripping it to shreds. Thinking with both an open and a critical mind is something that has to be learned. It isn't natural to want to see the best and worst of every side to the debate, and it takes time and practice to recognize that no issue is black and white, but that every argument is valid in its own right. You can pick a side, but you have to acknowledge that there will always be somebody on the opposing side, and they think you are just as wrong as you think they are. My past four years of school demonstrated to me that when it comes to thinking, I have to be both accepting yet critical of every claim, even my own, and that is what I am taking away from my university experience. It will, I hope, benefit every aspect of my life.
I have loved my time at UBC and I expect that knowing how to think productively will empower me in endeavors outside of the classroom. However, I can't get too far ahead of myself yet. I still have two classes, two papers, four exams, and one graduation ceremony to get through. Here we go . . .
Friday, 29 March 2013
Changes
It's pretty weird to write about this, but as this blog is supposed to be about finding your true self in your twenties it would be almost dishonest to leave out the big change going on in my life right now. So here goes.
My boyfriend and I were together for over two years. And we moved in together a few months ago. And we broke up this week.
I won't go into the details of our relationship or our break up. All the things that matter are obviously personal and special to both he and I, and don't need to be shared with everybody. What I want to write about is the transition from being in a committed relationship with the love of my life to being single and independent.
What I will say is that we have the good fortune of ending things on very good terms. While the moment of decision was not necessarily mutual, we both know in our hearts that this is the right thing to do, and we will support each other along the way. That doesn't make it any easier though. It is extremely hard to now be living in the home that we made together all by myself. It's so difficult to not talk to him about every thought and feeling I'm experiencing. And it's next to impossible to try to look to the future and move on, knowing that I simply met my soul mate at the wrong time.
When I was nineteen, I loved being single. I was going out all the time and dating a lot of guys, and I'd just stopped seeing someone I really liked because it felt like it was starting to get serious. I loved being independent and free. I could appreciate that I was young and should live in the moment, but I also had so many plans. One reason I was so adamant about not getting serious with anybody was because I was about to move to England for six months. But then a few weeks before I left I met the man who would become my boyfriend for the next couple years. In hindsight, the problems in our relationship trace back to that unlucky timing. I fell in love with him, but that doesn't mean I grew up and instantly became girlfriend material.
Of course, the majority of our relationship was fun and happy and positive. But when problems did arise, we always seemed to come back to this point about timing. I was not ready for a relationship when I met him, yet could not seem to say no to him like I'd been able to do with other guys because of the simple fact that I did love him. This tension and confusion built up inside me, and seemed to come out in horrible ways sometimes. If only we'd met a couple years later, when I'd decided for myself that I was ready for a boyfriend before we met, then maybe I would have fit the relationship mould a little better. I do not believe that I loved the wrong person, I just believe that it happened at the wrong time. And it's hard to get over that.
Now I am finding myself back where I was at the age of nineteen, just halfway through university. Except I'm 21. And I'm graduating. Wouldn't it have been perfect if I'd spent the past two years living the single student life, and been ready for a relationship now, as the rest of my life is beginning? Too bad you can't go back in time.
One positive spin that a lot of my friends and family have been presenting to me is the fact that my life would be changing right now anyway. In a few weeks I will be done with school, and I already didn't know where I would be working or what I would be doing. Now I can just add that I also don't know where I'll be living or who I'll be doing this with... In moments of sadness and regret, this thought brings all-consuming loneliness, but in moments of optimism, it brings feelings of liberation. For the first time in a while, I can legitimately make it all about me. I can be selfish without hurting anybody in the process. I can potentially go anywhere and do anything. Uncertainty can be terrifying, but it can also be freeing.
It's a stretch to say that that idea excites me already. Right now, the focus is on getting used to being by myself in the day to day. It's hard to say good bye to somebody who shared your life so completely. But at least I have that glimmer of possibility now. I can slowly start to grab hold of the adventurous ambition that used to define me, and do whatever it is that I want to do. Up until a couple weeks ago, I thought my twenties would consist of starting a career and a family. But maybe my twenties will be all about carefree spontaneity. Maybe I'll revert back to that impulsive nineteen year old and finally complete that stage of my life. OR maybe I'll learn that a serious relationship actually is what I really want. Either way, it's all about finding your true self - learning who you are and what you want. I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens.
My boyfriend and I were together for over two years. And we moved in together a few months ago. And we broke up this week.
I won't go into the details of our relationship or our break up. All the things that matter are obviously personal and special to both he and I, and don't need to be shared with everybody. What I want to write about is the transition from being in a committed relationship with the love of my life to being single and independent.
What I will say is that we have the good fortune of ending things on very good terms. While the moment of decision was not necessarily mutual, we both know in our hearts that this is the right thing to do, and we will support each other along the way. That doesn't make it any easier though. It is extremely hard to now be living in the home that we made together all by myself. It's so difficult to not talk to him about every thought and feeling I'm experiencing. And it's next to impossible to try to look to the future and move on, knowing that I simply met my soul mate at the wrong time.
When I was nineteen, I loved being single. I was going out all the time and dating a lot of guys, and I'd just stopped seeing someone I really liked because it felt like it was starting to get serious. I loved being independent and free. I could appreciate that I was young and should live in the moment, but I also had so many plans. One reason I was so adamant about not getting serious with anybody was because I was about to move to England for six months. But then a few weeks before I left I met the man who would become my boyfriend for the next couple years. In hindsight, the problems in our relationship trace back to that unlucky timing. I fell in love with him, but that doesn't mean I grew up and instantly became girlfriend material.
Of course, the majority of our relationship was fun and happy and positive. But when problems did arise, we always seemed to come back to this point about timing. I was not ready for a relationship when I met him, yet could not seem to say no to him like I'd been able to do with other guys because of the simple fact that I did love him. This tension and confusion built up inside me, and seemed to come out in horrible ways sometimes. If only we'd met a couple years later, when I'd decided for myself that I was ready for a boyfriend before we met, then maybe I would have fit the relationship mould a little better. I do not believe that I loved the wrong person, I just believe that it happened at the wrong time. And it's hard to get over that.
Now I am finding myself back where I was at the age of nineteen, just halfway through university. Except I'm 21. And I'm graduating. Wouldn't it have been perfect if I'd spent the past two years living the single student life, and been ready for a relationship now, as the rest of my life is beginning? Too bad you can't go back in time.
One positive spin that a lot of my friends and family have been presenting to me is the fact that my life would be changing right now anyway. In a few weeks I will be done with school, and I already didn't know where I would be working or what I would be doing. Now I can just add that I also don't know where I'll be living or who I'll be doing this with... In moments of sadness and regret, this thought brings all-consuming loneliness, but in moments of optimism, it brings feelings of liberation. For the first time in a while, I can legitimately make it all about me. I can be selfish without hurting anybody in the process. I can potentially go anywhere and do anything. Uncertainty can be terrifying, but it can also be freeing.
It's a stretch to say that that idea excites me already. Right now, the focus is on getting used to being by myself in the day to day. It's hard to say good bye to somebody who shared your life so completely. But at least I have that glimmer of possibility now. I can slowly start to grab hold of the adventurous ambition that used to define me, and do whatever it is that I want to do. Up until a couple weeks ago, I thought my twenties would consist of starting a career and a family. But maybe my twenties will be all about carefree spontaneity. Maybe I'll revert back to that impulsive nineteen year old and finally complete that stage of my life. OR maybe I'll learn that a serious relationship actually is what I really want. Either way, it's all about finding your true self - learning who you are and what you want. I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens.
Wednesday, 27 March 2013
Sun
The sun really has the power to improve my mood a lot. Everything is so much better when it's sunny out. Here in Vancouver, we are much more accustomed to rain than sun, and it seems like sometimes we don't even notice that we've fallen victim to the rainy funk. All through September and October there are rainy spells, until that one day in November when you realize that you can't even remember the last day without rain. This continues for weeks, all through the Winter, with the exception of those few days when you try to call the white stuff falling from the sky 'snow' even though it's going to turn into streams of brown slush and be washed away by a fresh batch of rain within the day. As the end of February approaches, there are those one or two sporadic days of sun, when you think you can see Spring coming but don't allow yourself to get too excited about it yet since this cycle happens every year and you know the inevitable rain will return shortly. Sure enough, there are a couple more weeks of rain and wind, even though, thankfully, it's a little warmer now, until . . . today. The sun is out, the sky is blue, and the rain is gone. And maayybbee this time it's for good?
As a born and raised Vancouverite, I've lived with the determined insistence that I like the rain. Sometimes it's pretty hard to make it from Monday to Friday unless you keep telling yourself that. Especially on days when you're carrying a bag filled with five textbooks, a laptop, a coffee, and an umbrella as you jog to the classroom that's a good two kilometers from the bus loop with your new leather boots getting soaked through and your umbrella continually being blown inside out. In times like this it helps to chant "I like the rain. I like the rain." as you leap over puddles and sidestep other drowning students. And at moments, I really do genuinely like the rain. Writing a paper is actually much easier and much more enjoyable when it's raining and you're cozy inside the library with a hot chocolate and all the other focused students who are avoiding the trek back home. It's a bit different when it's sunny out and you can catch glimpses of people suntanning through the window as you're constantly taking your sweater off and putting it back on in the air-conditioned library.
However, as much as I try to find the golden moments in my rainy city and convince myself that I like the rain, the truth is that the sun is so much better. As soon as that sun comes out, everything is warmer and happier. Earlier today, my friend and I had a two hour break and we decided to not do any work and just wander . . . This was a strange concept for both of us. But after some lunch we meandered outside where we watched Storm the Wall for a little bit. This is a competition that happens at UBC at the end of every year in which people cycle, swim, run, and then find their way over a twelve foot wall. It was great to be surrounded by that school spirit, especially at the end of my last semester at UBC, and it was made all the better by the fact that I could comfortably stand there in a T-shirt and denim jacket and actually needed sunglasses to see properly. Next we strolled over to the UBC bookstore (one of my favourite places in the world . . . which probably doesn't come as a surprise) and then up to the new UBC fountain. It was so nice to be outside in the sun with nowhere we had to go, just enjoying our gorgeous campus and all the people around us. (One thing we loved observing was the clothing schizophrenia that happens this time of the year. There are some people in shorts and flip-flops, desperately trying to turn today into summer, and some people still in their boots and coats, clearly trying not to get their hopes up. Oh, Vancouver.)
It was a great break in the midst of a busy week, and something that would not have happened in the rain. The sun brings with it the freedom to take a break, and it is in those slow moments that true feelings of contentment set in. Let's hope that this time Spring is here to stay!
As a born and raised Vancouverite, I've lived with the determined insistence that I like the rain. Sometimes it's pretty hard to make it from Monday to Friday unless you keep telling yourself that. Especially on days when you're carrying a bag filled with five textbooks, a laptop, a coffee, and an umbrella as you jog to the classroom that's a good two kilometers from the bus loop with your new leather boots getting soaked through and your umbrella continually being blown inside out. In times like this it helps to chant "I like the rain. I like the rain." as you leap over puddles and sidestep other drowning students. And at moments, I really do genuinely like the rain. Writing a paper is actually much easier and much more enjoyable when it's raining and you're cozy inside the library with a hot chocolate and all the other focused students who are avoiding the trek back home. It's a bit different when it's sunny out and you can catch glimpses of people suntanning through the window as you're constantly taking your sweater off and putting it back on in the air-conditioned library.
However, as much as I try to find the golden moments in my rainy city and convince myself that I like the rain, the truth is that the sun is so much better. As soon as that sun comes out, everything is warmer and happier. Earlier today, my friend and I had a two hour break and we decided to not do any work and just wander . . . This was a strange concept for both of us. But after some lunch we meandered outside where we watched Storm the Wall for a little bit. This is a competition that happens at UBC at the end of every year in which people cycle, swim, run, and then find their way over a twelve foot wall. It was great to be surrounded by that school spirit, especially at the end of my last semester at UBC, and it was made all the better by the fact that I could comfortably stand there in a T-shirt and denim jacket and actually needed sunglasses to see properly. Next we strolled over to the UBC bookstore (one of my favourite places in the world . . . which probably doesn't come as a surprise) and then up to the new UBC fountain. It was so nice to be outside in the sun with nowhere we had to go, just enjoying our gorgeous campus and all the people around us. (One thing we loved observing was the clothing schizophrenia that happens this time of the year. There are some people in shorts and flip-flops, desperately trying to turn today into summer, and some people still in their boots and coats, clearly trying not to get their hopes up. Oh, Vancouver.)
It was a great break in the midst of a busy week, and something that would not have happened in the rain. The sun brings with it the freedom to take a break, and it is in those slow moments that true feelings of contentment set in. Let's hope that this time Spring is here to stay!
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