Tag: canadian athlete

reactive

There are many aspects of life that are beyond control. As much as I’d like to think that I am in control of; well, anything… I have to take a step back and realize that I am not, and probably never have been. There are only a few things I can claim as mine in a creative sense, and for me they are all songs (though if I’m writing about something, even that level of control is questionable).

The truth is that I am reacting to most things.

I accelerate when the light turns green. I book musical performances when I am available to do them. I apply for funding when funding is available. I reward exemplary behavior. I buy shoes when they’re on sale.

I cannot truthfully be held accountable for anything that happens so much as I can be held accountable for how I react to those situations…

The neighbor’s dog got out. My kid forgot her bus pass. The grocery store ran out of tempeh. My guitar amp is crackling. I’m stuck behind a train that’s going to make me late for work.

Yes – but what am I going to do about it?
How am I going to temper my reaction to scenarios in order to illicit the best (or least worst) result?
And – is there actually anything I can really do to positively affect the outcome?

Almost unanimously, the quick answers to all of these questions is ‘I don’t know’ but beyond the initial shock of being presented with any scenario – be it good or bad – the possibilities are as limitless as the confines of imagination.

If my neighbor’s pitbull escapes the fence, and I am walking on-stage in another city, I must do nothing because not only can I not affect change from my current location, I must also not allow this scenario to take over the task at-hand. I have to resign to entrust the situation with my neighbor’s dog to the people that are able to do something, and I can’t feel regret about what couldn’t be done… especially when it can and will and does get handled.

This is ultimately why I don’t drink anymore. My decision making prowess suffers a devastating downgrade when I do, whether it means saying inflammatory things under the guise of attempted humour, or allowing my judgement around what I eat to slide, deciding whether or not to drive… the list goes on, and it primarily goes on because when I was drinking, I was drinking much more frequently than I should have been.

I am still bound to say inflammatory things and compromise my own judgement, but I do it with a sober mind. So, when my actions and reactions are called into question, I can be held appropriately responsible for them. It might sound a bit fucked, but I take solace in the fact that every poor decision I’ve made in the past 17 months has been made with intention. I don’t hide behind weak, hazy excuses anymore, and I own every smart and dumb idea… which is hard, because I’m fairly bashful and humble about the good ideas, and when the bad ideas come rolling out, there’s no excuse for me to hide behind.

The reality of the situation is that I am doing my best. My path is a spiritual one, and the actions, or reactions, I take are in keeping with the curves in that path that I need to bend with in order to stay upright.

beginnings and endings

I’ve opted to wander, once again.

It’s not that I don’t see the value and merits of the 12-step program for recovery or that I’ve concluded that I am not in need of help with my addictive traits, but for reasons I’ll only be vague about, I’ve left my recovery group behind in search of something that resonates a bit deeper with me.

It’s a group of wonderful and well-meaning people who are united by their struggle, but I’ve concluded that my struggle is different than theirs. Where I seek solace in a 2-hour rigorous physical workout, or am compelled to dive headlong into my art for says on end, I do so at the behest of God.

This means that if I am truly made in his image, then I must also conclude that he is a solitary being, a self-critical physical powerhouse, and carries with him a dark passenger that he must feed; but not over-feed, in order to maintain a structured balance in all his endeavors.

The weight lifted from my chest following my decision to leave was heavy, and I feel free, albeit untethered. I’m cognizant of my vulnerability as a loner who’s on a spiritual path and I realize that I can be led astray, and taken advantage of. I’ve learned a lot from the 12 steps, as I have from the various churches and barrooms I’ve held service in… and I can’t even say I’ll never go back, because I just may.

But my community is a different one… which is either waiting for me to find them, or waiting for me to stop looking as they’re already here. As well, my acts of service are different, and I don’t know exactly what that looks like yet, but I do have a set of skills that makes me unique and I look forward to the opportunity to enrich lives with them… maybe I am already.

4 years

I’ve been vegan for 4 years as of yesterday.

I vacillate between “it’s the least anyone can do” and “it’s not for the faint of heart” constantly, but in the end it’s worth every piece of bacon I didn’t eat or dairy product I didn’t consume. As a matter of fact, those things are fucking gross.

It started as a step in a health journey that was already underway for a while; partly a physical health decision and partly a spiritual decision, but quickly the welfare of our fellow earthlings became a priority as well.

To me, it’s astonishing that the best diet for my heart, the best diet for my liver, the best diet for my brain, and the best diet for all aspects of my body – including athletic performance – is the same diet that is best for the planet, and is also the best diet for the wellbeing of our fellow earthlings, the animals.

In an amazingly short time we’ve gone from “wHeRe Do YoU gEt YoUr PrOtEiN?” to “I’m reluctant to try (or gave up on) veganism because I’m not an athlete.” Both statements are sad and ill-informed despite the fact that they are polar opposites.

If you feel like you need to make a change, give it a shot.

If you do, I recommend you try it for 21 days. You can do anything for 21 days, and you can eat anything for 21 days. I know that, because you can literally eat nothing for 21 days.

discipline

I’m occasionally complimented on my discipline, and while it’s true that a 4:30am wake-up call is not for the faint of heart (nor is the notion that I occasionally wake up before I alarm goes off) I have to say that waking up at 4:30 is the easy part.

I drink tea, eat oatmeal, breathe, and sit quietly before going to the gym for anywhere from a 60 – 120 minute body pummeling, all before the work day starts. I frequently get my 10,000 steps in before the rooster crows for most people and it feels really good to get that done. Aside from the caffeine in my black tea, I don’t consume alcohol or smoke anything, and work my damnedest at not eating too much sugar or fat through a given day.

A lot of what I do sucks… but whatever. I need rules.

I don’t like rules, but I need them. Me without rules is a nightmare, reverting back to the 300 lb. oaf with bad skin who bitched complained about how the world wasn’t fair… and well, at least I was right about that part – the world isn’t fair. So no, I don’t like rules. I just need ’em.

Chances are pretty good that you need rules, too… but that’s your journey. I’m not responsible for you journey. I am; however, responsible for my child’s journey for the next few years.

My child. My kid. My little girl, who I want to be safe and warm and comfortable. And while safe is certainly a priority for me, warm and comfortable are things that I don’t need to worry about these days. Warm and comfortable are terrible teachers, and my duty as a parent is to prepare my child for the big, ugly, mean world… and to greet that world with a kind heart.

Sound hard? It is.

What’s more is that I won’t be there to enforce the rules… so I have to trust her to do it. It can absolutely happen, but it’s not going to happen over night. People like to tell me that “we went through that and we came out alright” and when people say that I want to pound my fists on the desk and say: “For starters – no we didn’t have to deal with that. We didn’t have to deal with any of the garbage that kids have to deal with now. And secondly – no we didn’t turn out alright. We made a mess. I fucked around for 25 years and ended up in a recovery program in my 40’s.”

So let’s take another look at my discipline then. People throw words around like ‘extreme’ and ‘drastic.’ “It’s extreme to run for 2 hours straight” and “it’s extreme to weigh your food” – well… drastic times, friends… drastic times.

No, I won’t be holding my own child to my standard.
If she wants to level-up later on, that’s her call.
But some serious goal-setting, and the removal of distraction is a solid place to start. She’s a kid, so she’s still got her dreams intact unlike the majority of adults do these days. She can literally do anything she wants to.

But it has to start today. In this moment.
Tomorrow is a fictional place.

journeys

I feel like a really old teenager most of the time. In spite of the fucked nature of the planet and most of the people in it, I am often filled with wonder and optimism to a level that most people – including myself, once upon a time – would find irritating.

Fortunately, my demeanor is pretty low-key.

As promised, I have returned from a journey to Mexico, wherein I was invited as a guest to perform at a number of venues with my rock & roll band. I knew going in to this that it would be both difficult and life-changing and I have most certainly left a piece of mi corazon in the sand off the pacific coast. I’ve encountered both stunning beauty and heart-breaking poverty, and have seen what giving and being of service really looks like.

I will undoubtedly return, but before I do there are a few things I must take seriously before I do. The first of which is the language, which I can only describe as a poetic and flowing assemblance of syllables that I picked up as much of as I could at the time, but by my estimation I wasn’t speaking it so much as I was chewing it up and spitting it out in an effort to inquire about excluding the cheese and meat from a traditional dish. I’ve already taken steps to refresh what I (almost) learned in high-school Spanish 25 years ago and I look forward to gradually integrating that language into my life so that I can carry myself respectful of my surroundings when I return.

The second is an acknowledgement of privilege. I don’t mean the “I’m white and I don’t know what oppression is” brand of privilege that we like to both enjoy and be embarrassed of in Canada, so much as I mean that I have access to things that musicians there don’t – like guitar strings, cables, and microphone stands, and all manor of other things we take for granted. Suffice to say, a lot of people helped us out and made rock & roll possible when any number of hiccups could have completely derailed the tour. We were shown an amazing amount of grace and respect and as much as nobody is keeping a tally, I’m inclined to feel the need to reciprocate.

There are more lessons, of course, and as I settle back in to life in Canada I am reminded of the subtle differences, and these lessons are revealed to me. Previously, I’ve only ever known Mexico as a tourist in all-inclusive resorts with Caribbean white sand & blue water, and as much as I think people should enjoy those and experience that, I took part in the day-to-day goings on of what was “Real Mexico” as the Mexicans experience it and I have to say that I loved it regardless of it’s challenges.

I look forward to my much more prepared return, realizing of course that I must live here, in this moment, and I’m fortunate to know that this moment will lead to a moment when I am back there… in due time.

long hauls

As this is being posted, I am now on tour with my band in Mexico, and as much as I look forward to writing about my experiences touring there when I return, this post and next week’s post are both written well in advance.

The shows I played in the latter half of 2023 were limited in quantity due to unforeseen circumstances. I don’t think I played live at all between Mid July & October, but since December 1st I’ve played 9 live shows in Alberta and am in the midst of playing 8 live shows in Mexico. In between, I’ve had numerous rehearsals and have had to travel for work, as well.

My family has been beyond patient.

Ultimately, we all understand that this level of business is good. The Confusionaires are in demand, and are raising their profile. We can expect some reprieve after this trip, which we’ll likely use to record. Bookings are coming in for summer & fall of 2024 already and that will give us something to look forward to, in addition to another exciting music-related thing that’s happening all the while. By mid April my day job will calm down considerably as well, as our year end will be dealt with.

This level of change has been uncomfortable, sure, but this level of change is what we’ve been working toward. The band is really solid and increasing in value steadily, but the 3 of us understand that every day is a gift and that opportunities need to be seized… and that opportunities are work.

I’m feeling a great level of gratitude for what I’ve been given here, between the songs I’ve been fortunate to write and the people I’m blessed to make music with.

I think complaining is easy, especially when things are uncomfortable, but it’s not lost on me that pressure, stress, friction, and time are all the elements required to make diamonds, thunderstorms, flowers, and all manner of beautiful things and that if I were being spared from dealing with these elements, that I would be upset that nothing was improving.

I am truly grateful for what I have, and where I am… in part because where I am is always moving.

open eyes

A few old pals started a punk band called Open Eyes, but that’s not what this is about.

I’ve lived a few lives, as we all have. I consider myself to be a young man but that is really an assertion made by comparison – like, my dad thinks I’m young and my daughter does not… so after kicking around this rock for 4 decades ‘n change I’ve gone through the cycle of life & rebirth a few times, and I’ve recently had my eyes open to my addictive tendencies and I’ve even gone so far as to do something about it.

It’s when I’m in the company of other addicts who have not made those same assertions that I am completely rocked by reality. It’s shocking to me to be faced with these things, for everyone around to know there is a sizable problem and for no one to do anything – mind you, it’s not everyone’s place to do something so much as it is the addict’s place to ask for help – but in a case like the one I’m thinking of, the need for intervention is palpable. The person in question was a newcomer to the group. Not a newcomer in the sense of someone we’d brought in, but more in the sense that he’d injected himself into the group, with baggage and insecurities in tow.

There were 2 extenuating factors at play. The first is that nobody in the group knew him long enough to be able to offer any insight (and the opportunity did not present itself), and that this person, when nestled into their intoxicants, was incredibly irritating.

We were all nice, and debriefed in private about our irks with this individual but as an addict in recovery I now feel like I should have done more, somehow. Showed more love. More compassion. Something… but I’m also faced with the notion that I; and addict in recovery, am outnumbered in the presence of an addict who’s high. It’s me vs. him + my addiction, which is 2 on 1 with me in a disadvantage.

I’m also faced with the idea that I’m somehow feeling more compassion toward this person whom I’ve just met than I am with people I’ve known for years.

I don’t know that I really have the answer to these types of conundrums other than to say this: If I have a problem with someone, the problem is mine. It’s MY problem. The root idea of that sentence is ‘I have a problem.’ And I have to deal with it… and as much as this is something I am re-learning in recovery since I don’t have my old crutch to lean on when I’m stressed or annoyed or what-have-you, it’s actually something my dog taught me.

I learned early on in my dog training experience that my dog is perfect. The only fault my dog has is the fact that he will not live long enough for my satisfaction, but even that is a projection of my insecurities. I’m getting sidetracked. My dog is perfect. He does exactly what he’s supposed to do – it is I who have issues with his need to chew on things, or where he chooses to relieve himself, and so I am the one who needs to show him where & when these actions are appropriate.

I have a list of things I want my dog to do.
He has ONE thing he wants… and that’s to spend time with me.

Addictions are not much different – they have a function and a purpose, to ease pain, and in all honesty these addictive measures work. They just bring other problems along with them as an unfortunate byproduct.

But in the end… love is all any of us humans want.
Dogs, too.