Tag: diy

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.

hindsight

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the cliche phrase ‘hindsight is 20/20’ – the idea of looking back on an event, or series of events, and concluding that you have much more clarity about those events with the knowledge and understanding you currently possess, comparing it to having ‘perfect’ 20/20 vision.

I take issue with this. I think it’s wrong.

There’s a word, and it’s a popular one these days, that completely negates the idea that hindsight is perfect. That word is trauma. A great number of details have been misremembered and incorrectly associated with events surrounding trauma, causing what everyone around us might conclude is an ‘irrational response’ right here, in the present. I’m reminded of a situation in a music store, where a loud banging sound caused a war veteran who happened to be present, to dive onto the floor, before getting up, finishing his transaction, and bashfully leaving the store as fast as he could. As far as I remember, nobody in the room knew he was a veteran.

I suppose you could say that the veteran might have concluded, after hitting the deck, that in hindsight, he’d acted irrationally… but I’d wager a guess that if it happened again a day or week later, his response would be the same in spite of the fact that he is fully aware that he is not in a war zone.

Furthermore, there have been studies that show that when we remember an event that happened in our past, our brain networks change in ways that actually alter the memory of the event. This means the next time we remember it, we’re not remembering the event, but we are remembering the last time we remembered it.

When I was young, I had a difficult relationship with one of my parents. The fact that this is no longer the case has very little, if anything, to do with hindsight. Although I have the ability to see things differently now, it’s not because the passing of time so much as it’s because I get along with that parent much better now, to the point that I subconsciously don’t want to think of them in an unflattering light.

What can we do?

Well, I can’t speak for anyone else, but I believe that the answer for me is to do whatever I can to not hold a grudge, and to cherish positive memories. I want to give people, and myself, the opportunity for redemption for wrongdoings.

We like to believe that we can change for the better as we grow and learn, but somehow justify denying other people the same opportunity for redemption, like we hold the monopoly on self improvement. I’ve been doing that my whole life…

And in hindsight, that doesn’t make much sense anymore.

movement

I’m a runner. I run, and a couple months ago I assessed that I was the happiest with physique when I could run 22 kms without stopping. I can’t rightly say that this is what made me ‘happy’, but that was me at my fittest ever. I’d just run a triathlon course on my 40th birthday and in a fit of whimsy I opted to sign up for the Edmonton Half Marathon and came in at a time that was more than 15 minutes faster than I thought I would.

The truth is, I wasn’t happy with my physique.
I was happier about it than I am now… but at that time, all I saw was flaws, and now I look at my shirtless progress photos from that time with envy.

So, as of mid-November I got back into half marathon training, and in so doing I’ve tried to analyze what else was going on in my life at that time and the answer was: not much. The tail-end of a global pandemic we won’t soon forget, and a handful of fun outdoor shows probably sums it up nicely… but I had peace in my mind like I haven’t had the luxury of this year, and that’s really what I want, and although the spiritual journey I’ve been on has brought me through some rocky terrain I know that things are improving.

I won’t get into why, because it wasn’t all things happening to me directly, but to people around me. Sorting through those things brought to light some old traumas and coping mechanisms to light. I’d thought I’d dealt with them, but boy was I ever wrong.

Turns out there is not ‘set it & forget it‘ life… but I get tired of feel at-odds with myself.
I want to be disciplined and I want to go easy on myself.
I want to train hard and rest.
I want to be productive and sleep.
I want to be present and I want to daydream.

It’s endless, really, but I doubt I’m alone in that.
What I wonder now is, do I have to choose? I feel like living in the moment means not having to choose. I should be able to train when it’s time to train and rest when I’m tired and not have to be so intense or so exhausted that either choice is all-encompassing.
Is training really the opposite of rest?
Is productivity the opposite of sleep? No – so why the conundrum?

Am I just impossible to please? Or just confused.

What does satisfy me is that at this point I’m not really going after ‘more more more‘ actively so much as I’m finding ways to simplify. I’ve gone so far as to purchase several of the same articles of clothing so I don’t have to be faced with choosing what to wear so often. I meal plan and thus am rarely unsure of what to eat. I go for quality over quantity, generally and it’s improved my life.

Maybe it’s all so I can spend time fixating on productivity.

That last line was a joke.