I Am a Bird

When a small and helpless gosling struggles its way into this world, and takes its first breaths of air, does it arrive with a sense of knowing that it will someday embark on a great and perilous journey across thousands of miles and vast expanses of terrain? My best judgment tells me this isn’t so.

At what point in life then, does this little being become conscious of this greater purpose? An internal clock, ticking away, counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until departure, is what I like to imagine. 

Perhaps one day those who have previously completed the migration just head off, and the rest follow in an earnest effort to remain with the group.

What’s fascinating is that we just don’t know.  


Today, with all the fantastic technology we have, we still cannot explain why birds, butterflies, whales and all manner of beasts, at certain periods in their lives are compelled to undertake arduous, often life threatening voyages to destinations that are  incomprehensibly far away.

Whatever the explanation may be, when the call to migrate comes, it never falls upon deaf ears.

Some people will describe it as a building anticipation, an inner restlessness that cannot be ignored, then before you know it, you’ve sold nearly everything you own and you’re standing, slightly stupefied, in front of your over-packed vehicle with the realization that you’re leaving.

It all happens faster than you can logically process, and I suppose that is the beauty of migration – if a bird was able to truly comprehend the risks involved in the migratory process, I mean really sit and dwell on it, you may find that some would choose to stay, and take their chances with winter or food shortages or whatever hardship the migration is intended to avoid. 


Nature is beautiful in this way; it pulls and pushes us all in one direction or another. Without our conscious awareness, we find one day we are not the same, we have grown, changed, have different goals, passions and ambitions.


For some of us, that realization is we must go. We must migrate.

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!