Good Friends Are Hard to Come By

People come in and out of your life everyday. The saying 'people come into your life for a reason a season or a lifetime,' always comes to mind when I meet someone new. For me, most people come into my life for a season. Very few have stuck around for the long haul.

When standing at the precipice of a major life change, one of the toughest things I will have to leave behind, are my friends. I don't like to think of it as leaving anything behind. The world is small in this day and age, and technology grants us the privilege of being able to communicate with loved ones even when they are thousands of kilometers, and three times zones away.

Despite this, actually contemplating the fact that you cannot email a hug, a quiet look of encouragement, or a quick glance at the right time to say 'I know exactly what you are thinking right now..' is tough.

I love my friends. I know everyone says that. But, I really do. They are my family, my confidantes. I keep a very small group of friends. I like it that way. The world moves so fast, that it is impossible to have more than a few good friends and be able to truly be interested and involved in all of their lives. If I could pack my friends, and take them with me I would. Unfortunately, I just don't have the space.

Planning, planning and more Planning!

Moving across the country seems like a great idea in theory, doesn't it? Tossing your fears and inhibitions to the wind, starting out on a bold adventure. After beginning the purge of my extraneous possessions, the subject of actually planning the cross country trek has moved to the forefront of my thoughts.

Wanting to be able to take in at least a couple hours of sights each day, I have allotted myself eight days to travel from my present home, here in Deanlea to my new home in Port Moody, British Columbia . As a result of my unorthodox travel companions, I have opted to sleep in my car every night of the trip.

Before you shake your head and declare my insanity, I implore you to give me the benefit of the doubt. This is not my first long term car journey. In fact, I have driven across country (as the passenger) from Ontario to Sacramento, California, where I lived for some time. When I chose to return back to Ontario. I took a bus, alone. And last year, I drove with my boyfriend down to Mile 0 in the Florida Keys. So with over 16,000km of long distance driving under my belt, I would like to think of myself as a well-seasoned road tripper.

That being said, I have learned that the key to a successful and pleasant road trip with as few mishaps as possible is planning, planning and more planning.

Breaking it down into categories helps immensly and keeps you from overlooking important but tiny details. Because I will be relocating on this journey, and not just visiting per-se, it will require a little extra dilligence on my part. However, I am completely terrified completely convinced it is totally do-able.

The details of how much it will cost, as well as emergency funds have been ironed out and I have progressed to planning the actual route of my trip. A bonus is that I am a member of CAA, which gives me access to maps and travel guides for free. The also offer a service called a TripTik, which allows you to customize a map for you road trip to include whatever stops you'd like to make along the way. You can order one to be printed for free at the CAA office if you're a member. Non-members can visit the caa.ca website and builf their own TripTik to print at home. This tool is super handy and I have used it on more than one occasion. Check it out for yourself, if you'd like.

I have failed to mention that I spent a huge amount of time searching for the right place, and searching for steady employment before I even considered beginning the road trip planning.

After I plan my route, I will share some of the stops I plan to make with you.

Ciao for now...

The Value of Stuff

Everything has a value. Whether it be monetary or sentimental or even practical value. On rare occasions, some items have value that falls into all three of these categories. I like to call it the 'triple threat.'

These days I have been looking at my possessions with new eyes. You see, when you live in a house, you end up with a lot of stuff. Over the years, you acquire it slowly, one knick knack and souvenir at a time. Bits and bobs you tuck away for a day when you might need them. Hidden away are a million little items that you forgot you had.

Now, all of a sudden, I notice everything. For instance, how many books I have...

THE CULL

Assessing the value of your personal belongings is hard.

Frequently when performing this exercise, I have tried to utilize the aforementioned 'triple threat' as criteria. The problems with this approach are as follows:

1) I have too much stuff
2) I can find a good reason to keep all of my stuff
3) I like my stuff

As you will know from reading my previous post, that I am planning on making quite a long distance move. And, alas, the limited space inside and on top of my 2002 Pontiac Sunfire dictates that I must trim the fat. So, every time I look at anything in my house, I try to assign some sort of a value to it.

The first thing that usually comes to mind, seeing as I am traveling thousands of kilometres away from my home, is how much room do you take up? Then, how much money can I fetch for you?  How much do I need you? How much do I want you? How much do I like you?

Time after time, I come to the conclusion, that I want, and need everything. And to boot, I like it all! Please don't think of me as a terribly materialistic person, but, the stuff I have I chose carefully, I saved for, I pined for, and eventually purchased. Inevitably, the emotional or sentimental value of an object almost always outweighs its value in price for me.

But I can't bring everything. After my assessment of my stuff, I began to assess myself. How was I going to be able to do this? Clearly I am too attached to my stuff. A new approach was in order. I needed to assess 'the value of my values.' Or more precisely, the value of the criteria I am weighing each item against. The following is my (very high level, not-so-detailed) list of my criteria of value, in order, from most important to me, to least:

1) Sentimental / Emotional values
2) Practical value
3) Monetary value

It made me realize something interesting. Or rather, I suppose wonder something interesting. Do we all define our value of stuff differently? What criteria do others measure the value of something against? What is value really?

Curiously, value is fluid and changing. It can be defined simply, and at the same time, cannot be explained at all. Why do we value the things we have? I am speaking of possessions specifically in this instance, but, it is a question that can be applied to the intangible as well.

Like our fingerprints, our motives behind our value of things, people, experiences, are completely unique. In way, they define us.
  
Asking these questions has led me to a starting point in the monumental task of reducing the volume of my belongings to approximately 30 square feet.

^Insert Life Here ^

I will start with the things I have no emotional connection to, as it is much easier to assess the practicality of an item when I don't have a personal attachment to it.

LIST OF THINGS TO GO:
1) Dryer
2) Random old rocking chair whose origins I am unaware of
3) Giant armchair and ottoman that I stub my toe on every time I cross my living room
4)...

OK so perhaps I may have a bit of an emotional connection to some of the objects, but negative emotions don't count.

I have listed my items on kijiji.ca and as I write this blog, someone is responding to my chair. I am one more (albeit very small) step closer towards my new home in the west.

Bye Bye!

 

Comfort - Friend or Enemy

Until recently, I had never really put any thought into the concept of comfort. Certainly, i have grasped it on occasion, when slipping into a new pair of socks, or flipping to the cold side of the pillow on a hot summer night. But that is not the comfort I am referring to.

I have often heard the phrase, 'too much of a good thing can be bad,' and like most of these pearls of wisdoms, it holds true in most circumstances. So, is it true of comfort? Can too much comfort be a bad thing?

Sitting on the couch cross legged, staring at my dog curled up, comfortably, I struggle with this question.

I am almost 27. It doesn't seem that old, but in my self-professed old age, I am beginning to re-evaluate my path in life. The first thing that came to my me, when I began this quest of self discovery, was, why even do it in the first place? I am comfortable. I went to school, got myself a good job, I have a roof over my head, a small dog to keep me company (among other critters) and for all-intensive purposes of this argument, I am pretty healthy. So, why change? What is so bad about comfort?

All through my early twenties, I hungered for this comfort, for stability, and a schedule, to know where my life was heading. Now that I am here, I am less than enthralled.

Part of me feels guilty even writing that. But the fact remains, despite the over abundance of comfort in my life, the security and safety, I still want more.

Comfort in my humble opinion is like a sweet drug that lulls us into complacency. We trade one dream or another for the warm and fuzzy embrace of our old friend comfort. All the while, we tell ourselves that it is for the best, because this was our ultimate goal wasn't it? Comfort?

Under closer observation, comfort doesn't seem like such a wonderful thing. It starts to look like a habit, and addiction even a disease or perhaps to be less harsh, a mild infection.

I am suffering from a serious case of comfort.

Case in point...exhibit A 

Liz - Early 20s