Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the future. To me, thinking more than a month in advance gets a little scary. I don’t know what my summer plans are, where I’ll be living, or whether or not I will be able to do camp this year. I worry a lot about my generation and future generations, and how we are becoming disconnected from the natural world. Who knew that if you want a good summer job you should apply in January? You need to apply for scholarships many months in advance? You need to figure out where to live ahead of time? You need to think about what you want to do in the future? Are we going to destroy the planet? Can I make a difference? Will we ever learn? What is this “future” and when do we get there? Is it some technological paradise where we all drive flying cars? Who knows! I’m turning twenty this year, and I am so scared: I don’t feel ready to grow up. It feels as though important decision after important decision is being thrown at me, and I don’t know how to respond to any of them. As scary as all this stuff seems to me though, I’ve come up with a new way to think of the future.

Since I can’t look forward in time yet (I’m working on it) I’ve started looking back, and I’ve tried to see things with a longer view. It’s astounding how the world has

Banting & Best: discoverers of insulin

changed. Just over a hundred years ago, airplanes and cars did not exist. Insulin had not been discovered. A hundred years is not much longer than an average canadian life, and in that time the world has undergone extraordinary change, and I don’t just mean in a technological manner. One hundred years ago, if you were anything but heterosexual you would have been physically attacked for it. Similarly, if you weren’t a caucasian male, your rights were almost nonexistent and respect even more so.

Even just looking at my own life, in 19 years a lot has changed: cellphones, the internet, the concept of environmental accountability, social values, individual rights. Everything has moved forward. Five years ago I was a participant at YES, and now I am a staff member helping to make a difference. Every year at camp I see the amazing growth that individuals go through and I am inspired. This is just what’s happened in the last twenty years, who knows what the next twenty hold?

I'm on the left with the awesome haircut.

And the one thing that really resonates with me when I think about all of this? Hope. The world is by no means perfect, but in retrospect, we have come a long way. Sure we stumble around a bit and occasionally take a step backwards, but the general movement is forward. I’m so hopeful for the world we can create.

As for my fears for my own future, I’m trying to make decisions that reflect what I want, not what others expect from me.  It’s hard; I ask myself “What do I really want?” a lot, and it’s pretty difficult for me to figure that out sometimes. But I’m working on it. I’m also trying to stay optimistic about being able to effect a change in the world, especially with respect to the environment. Everyday I hear about incredible environmental works that are going on right now, and I also hear no end of opinions about how climate change isn’t real and environmentalists are idealistic idiots. I just keep telling myself that change is never easy, and people are resistant to give up old comforts for benefits that are not immediately going to benefit them, but that people CAN change.

So now,the future isn’t as scary, its exhilarating. I participated in a compost visioning seminar this november for the new UNBC composting system, and the two things I came away with were excitement and hope. I was participating in creating this incredible future. This is what I want to be a part of! If you feel strongly about this too (and I hope you do!), there are a few links at the end to environmental videos and sites.

Of course there are days where I don’t want to change the world, there are days when all I want to do is curl into a ball and forget about assignments, climate change, jobs, politics, pipelines, and everything else. But now I know that I will be alright, and fretting and stressing about what is to come won’t get me anywhere. There’s no point in being scared; you can’t please everyone, so try to be content with making yourself happy. There’s no point in trying to change the entire world and fix all of its problems in one go. All that any of us can do is work on one or two things at a time and be the best people we can.The world is changing, and not only do we get front row seats to the transformation but we get to participate as well. I’m leaving you with a quote from American Beauty; it really resonates with me lately and captures that feeling of being overwhelmed but simultaneously so happy to be able to experience this crazy world.

“It’s hard to be angry when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes, I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and I can’t take it. My heart swells up like a balloon that’s about to burst. But then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold onto it. And then, it flows through me like rain and I feel nothing but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid life.”

Links to environmental videos and sites:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aO4s4P7eFk4

http://www.storyofstuff.org/movies-all/

http://noimpactman.typepad.com/

http://www.foodincmovie.com/index.php

http://www.cbc.ca/natureofthings/

Each day of peace work at the centre is wildly different from the next. Sometimes I get to help make giant dinners for huge groups of people who are coming together to share a meal for the first time. Sometimes I get to lead workshops on topics like love and self-awareness. Sometimes I get to mop floors, wash dishes, make tea, and chit-chat with people. Sometimes I get to run around in my gumboots dressed up like a sheep, chasing small children under beautiful rainbows on a beautiful green cliff over the Irish Sea. All of the things I get to do are really, really different. What makes these things really all the same is that I do them all with love for the people around me, and love for the world. Love is magic; we know this at the YES Camp.

By shamelessly loving life and being unafraid to show people how much I love love, I help make it okay for the people around me to let themselves do it too. I think that’s something we do really well for each other at camp. Thanks for showing me how so I can help spread it around the world.

It’s always such a struggle for me as I’m digging through “trash”. I find amazing pieces every time and I scream and laugh and hold my treasures above my head like I’m introducing Simba for all of Pride Rock to behold. But then I look around at all the items that will never have a second home. The items that were donated on good faith, by people doing a good thing, and sending their old possessions to be reused, recycled, and re-loved. But instead they end up in the trash and get hauled away to take up precious landfill space. Did I mention that this particular thrift store fills up at least one dumpster every day? That’s far too much for one person to pick through.

So once I became a seasoned thrift store diver, I decided to try my hand at diving for food. I’d heard about people binning for food before but all that I could picture was desperately underprivileged people searching through meager scraps and celebrating over half eaten soggy hamburger remains. I quickly learned that I was greatly mistaken.

I’ve come to think of the dumpster as a garden bed, without the soil. It still has weeds that you have to sort through (wrappers and plastic), but as you dig around, you start to pull out a plethora of fruits and veggies that are always ripe for the harvest, every time. Except this garden bed is not like the beds you’re used to. It’s chock-full of exotic fruit from far away lands, bananas, mangoes and kiwis in December! It’s a Christmas miracle! But fruit is just the beginning. This field grows food from all six-food groups; seven if you include processed candy and treats.

Onto the next question: Why is this food being thrown out?

Most of the food that ends up in the dumpster is there because it is not aesthetically pleasing to the consumer. Maybe it’s a reflection of how our culture views beauty. This has a blemish? I could not possibly want you, you hideous tomato! Give me something firmer and plumper!

But this is the reason for a large percentage of food waste. The produce may get dinged or dropped during transportation or may have something visually undesirable about it.

Another factor is ripeness. When given the option, most customers are not going to choose the fruit that is bursting with immediate ripeness and required to be consumed within a couple of days. More often than not, they are going to choose something with a longer grace period to ensure it doesn’t spoil. This is important to know if you’re ever going to try going for a dive yourself: There is a small window that you have to either cook/preserve/eat your finds or else it will be going straight back to where it came from. But we’ll come back to that later…

An additional reason things are chucked is that they are past their expiry date. I used to think that the expiry date meant that on said day, this item was going to turn from delicious and nutritious, to festering and molding. The expiry date on a package means that this is the last day that this item can legally be sold in stores. After that it must be removed from the shelf and tossed.

The next question that most people ask is: Is it safe to eat?

It’s true that sometimes there are mass recalls on certain products because of some contamination at a processing plant, but the chances of running into these are slim to none. Luckily, if you’re concerned that there is way too much of one product in the dumpster for no apparent reason, you can check this website where the Canadian Food Inspection Agency posts any food recall that has been sent out.

http://www.inspection.gc.ca/about-the-cfia/newsroom/food-recalls-and-allergy-alerts/eng/1299076382077/1299076493846

I’ve only checked this website a handful of times and I’m still alive…

Let’s start at the beginning:

Tools of the Trade:

-       Gloves (dish gloves work great – lots of grip and no dexterity lost!)

-       Clothes you don’t mind getting a little dirty

-       Headlamp (if it’s a night mission)

-       Hand sanitizer or wet wipes (a great alternative you jeans)

-       Long stick with a hook on the end if you don’t want to get right in there

-       Upper body strength (optional) to pull yourself out if your going deep  (I suggest using a milk crate to get in and out)

-       Bike with a good sturdy rack to haul away your loot. (Again, milk crates work great)

-       A car is preferable – lots of cargo space for lots of plunder

Optional (but very helpful)

-       Deep freeze

-       Blender/Food processor (anyone heard of The Ninja? Pure gold!)

-       Dehydrator

-       Pressure cooker for canning

-       CREATIVITY! (When you show up at home with two boxes of peppers, a crate of yogurt, and 50 lbs of eggplant your going to need to think on your feet)

-       A buddy! Diving is much more fun and less intimidating if you’ve got a friend that’s got your back covered. (I guess that goes with most things in life…)
Alright, you’ve got all your gear, you’ve got your buddy at your side. Next, you need to scope your territory. Small markets are the best bet: Natural food stores, Ma and Pa grocery stores, bakeries. As soon as you start getting into big businesses like Save-On Foods and Thrifties, you’re going to run into a divers arch nemesis: the dreaded compactor. When you start dealing with the amount of produce that big supermarkets produce, you also start dealing with the amount of waste that comes hand in hand. The solution to this gigantic amount of waste is the compactor: A behemoth of a machine that resembles a Star Wars Imperial Walker, has food funneled into it all day and then crushes it down into tiny compact pieces.

You’re much better off sticking to the small stores.

Night is a good time to go, as you’ll run into less people, but during the day you don’t need your headlamp. Some stores are fine with people being in their dumpsters, the odd few aren’t so much. Though a confrontation is no big deal if handled properly, you should still try to avoid it. If you’re ever approached while in a bin: smile, say hello and carry on conversation as though there is nothing strange about you rummaging through their garbage. The worst thing that could happen is you’re going to be asked nicely to get out of their dumpster. I’ve had one person tell me that I was stealing from him and that I was on private property (I only agree with one of the accusations). But most places are totally fine with it; some even know me by name and set boxes aside.

Now, keep in mind, you’re in the trash and there is going to be real garbage in there as well as treasures. Don’t go berserk if you find the mother of all ice cream stashes, there could be broken glass inside and you should always exercise caution when rummaging through bags of trash.

The last step: Processing your prize!

You’ve just made a big pull, you’re high fiving with you friends, and you can’t believe what you just scored for completely free. But this food is in its prime right now…

You’ve got to act fast!:

1)   Wash your goods. Run a sink of warm soapy (biodegradable) water with a splash of bleach for good measure (don’t worry, the food you buy in grocery stores is usually treated with bleach anyway unless you’re buying organic). I like to throw in some vinegar, as the acid is an effective disinfectant, deodorizer, and cleanser which also cuts grease and slows down mold and bacteria growth. (Yay vinegar!)

2)   Wash yourself. Your food is clean, now you should be too.

3)   Cook/Eat/Dry/Can/Freeze your goods! This is where the fun and creativity come in. Think of new and awesome ways to consume your goods. Ever tried 100% strawberry juice? Fruit leathers are rad. Soups are simple and delicious.

4)   Pat yourself on the back and high five your pals once more! You’ve just saved possibly hundreds of dollars, had tons of fun doing so, and helped to divert a waste stream!

Dumpster diving can be intimidating if you’ve never done it before! But it becomes a whole lot less intimidating if you do it with company. Find someone else who is interested, or better yet, someone that has done it before to show you the ropes.

I hope this was informative and fueled you with some inspiration to be part of a global solution to a world-wide epidemic.  This is something I’m passionate about and I believe can be safe and eco-friendly when done properly and with respect.

Taste the Waste!

(if you want to learn more about food waste, check out this video about dumpster diving in Quebec!)

Last night I went to see Demetri Martin perform his comedy act at a venue in downtown Vancouver. It had been a pretty good day. I’d spent the morning reading and sipping good coffee from one of my favorite local coffee shops. In the early afternoon I hiked up Lynn Peake with some friends. In the afternoon I made a beastly sized chicken bacon salad with ingredients fresh from a nearby market. It was a wonderful Saturday.

As I walked along Georgia street in the brisk west coast evening, I couldn’t help but notice myself smiling at the strangers passing me by. There was something new about the way I was walking, and for a couple of blocks I couldn’t figure it out. Was it that I was about to endure hours of bust-a-gut comedy in a beautiful theatre? Was it because I was sharing this experience with a friend who loves to laugh just about as much as I do? And then it hit me.

My bounce was back.

The spring in my step, the smooth in my swagger, the attitude in my strut – whatever you want to call it: it was back.

And it was then that I realized…
It’s taken me a long time to get here.

In the last few months of my 2011 – something happened. At first I thought it was the end of semester crazies. Then I thought maybe it was the ‘great adulthood epiphany’ (a mythical type of wisdom that we in our early 20s are rumoured to seek). But it’s the smallest of events that seem to have the most significance. The smallest and the least suspected.

At the beginning of November I took a fall while I was rock climbing. A bad fall. Parallel to the ground and hanging from the ceiling I was reaching for a hold with my right hand when the rock slipped. Picture yourself doing a belly-flop into a pool from the high dive. Now flip your body around so you land with a curved back first. Replace a watery surface with memory-foam mats. Add some body tension and you’ve got yourself a hard fall. The kind of fall that makes a thunderous smacking sound on impact and causes spectators to gasp and grab the first aid attendant.

Stupid ‘Red V3’. I wasn’t even working on that route.

For those of you who know me, you know that climbing has a very large spot in my life. It is my passion. I draw strength, courage, and appreciation through what it offers me. If it were legal and/or possible I would already be married to climbing. 4 lyfe. And I would make a very good wife and we would grow very old together.

Unfortunately, I don’t handle injury easily (at least not my own injuries). For me it’s an emotional process. Stages 1-6 are all the same: denial. Utter and complete denial. As if I can get hurt. Pshhhh, that neeeeeever happens.

Like an idiot, (such an idiot), I kept climbing. Pain swelled in my bones and muscles but I thought I was being tough by ignoring it. It would go away eventually, right? I can climb through this. It will get better. It will be the way it always was. I can climb through this.

A week later I couldn’t sleep without pain. I was abnormally fatigued and warm-up routes (so easy your grandmother could climb them) caused my muscles to flame in agony. I couldn’t even dance in the back at work. I couldn’t even open a door. Of course I couldn’t ‘climb through this’. What was I thinking? I knew I was being an idiot. Safety never takes a holiday – even if your future marriage is on the line.

Only one person managed to talk any sense into me.

“Danika” my climbing partner Rob said while we were tying in to a route for warm-up. “If you’re in pain, you probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“But pain is just weakness leaving your body right Rob?” I joked half-heartedly. A small voice inside my head muttered: you moron, he’s right!

Nerves twinged in my gut as his old owl eyes looked down at mine. Does that mythical adult wisdom come easier if you’re a ridiculously tall 28 year old grad student? I felt like I was letting him down – and the way he looked at me seemed to confirm that indeed I was. Then he said something that stuck with me.

“There’s only one person who can help you Danika,” he pointed his finger at my chest. “and that’s yourself.”

There are some places in our lives that we invest a lot of love. Maybe it’s something like climbing. Maybes it’s a friendship we’ve had since we were children. Maybe it’s something bigger – like a boyfriend or girlfriend, a first love.

Whatever it is, we cherish it deeply. It becomes a part of us, and we never want it to change or fade or disappear. We hold on to these things even when it hurts us. Even when we know that all we need to do is be brave enough to let he, she, it… let them go. The trouble is, nobody is going to tell us when. And that (for the most part) is for us to decide.

I’ve never been very good at goodbyes. Especially for the things I hold onto in my heart. I was terrified with the idea of not climbing. I just wanted to go back to the way it was before I fell. But there is no going back. There’s only going forward. Life was about to change and I knew that it would leave a big hole in my heart for a while. Was I brave enough to face what was coming my way? Was I strong enough to live without?

Keep the pain, or move forward. Keep the pain, or move forward.

By the time I saw the doctor I’d sprained three ribs, pulled some of my muscles and was told that I wouldn’t be able to start climbing again for a month. Time which normally would have been spent working on routes and bouldering problems with friends was replaced with physiology and chiropractic appointments. I felt estranged at first but then I began to seek a different kind of recovery. An emotional kind of recovery.

Close friends did my physio exercises with me. Rob stayed in touch and we’d have coffee while he was on his way to the gym. The best girlfriends I’ve ever had created a dance forcefield around me so that I could still enjoy a concert we’d planned to go to without further injuring myself. My study partner mocked my wounded puppy face in the library and make me laugh until my ribs hurt (…literally). And somewhere between all of this I started to realize that I have amazing and caring people in my life who at the drop of a hat would do anything to support me.

And that’s when I decided to get rid of more of the aches in my life. I had some big conversations. I developed standards. Standards of happiness. Standards of friendship. Standards for relationships. Standards for cleanliness in my apartment. Standards for the quality of meals I fed myself each day. Standards of exploration – because I (like my friends) have a big heart too. If I let one thing go, it just makes room for another. And so it spiralled. And somewhere between breaking up with a bad news boyfriend and finally cleaning underneath my bed I bounced back.

Facing a trivial and relatively minor back injury gave me the courage I needed to face my entire life – get rid of the aches and pains I’d been holding on to. This injury gave me the courage to let go. I was now, somehow, brave enough to face the pain and emptiness rather than live uncomfortably with it. Again, it wasn’t easy. I fought some sadness. I hurt for a while even after I let go. Here I am, two months later and I have that spring in my step.

As I bounced along on that chilly January evening with a smile on my face and warmth in my heart – I felt bigger. And I think I know why:

Because “life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” (Anais Nin)
I think I’ve just found mine.

However, as the holidays have passed and Christmas and New Year’s have come and gone, I’ve been surprised at how I’ve felt. I’m not nearly as sad as I expected to be at spending my last holiday in my old house. I’ve realized that after three years in Vancouver (and Burnaby), I’m finally ready to call the city my home. Oh I’ll always be a small-town girl at heart and maybe even hold a small affinity for country music, but I really do feel at home in Vancouver now. I’ve even begun to miss the rush and organized chaos of the flow of people and traffic of the city when I’m away. Something else that I’ve realized over this past holiday season, (which I also learned at camp), is that it doesn’t necessarily matter so much where “home” is located for me. Just like camp, it’s not the place that makes home so special, but the people who are in it. I’ll probably always have friends and family to come back to in Mackenzie, but now I also have a great home in Burnaby with my cousin, her husband, and their dogs. I also have an incredible camp family that I can always turn to when I’m in need. So in this new year I’m excited to explore my new home and share it with my friends and family, old and new.

There are seven steps to creating your beary best friend.

Step 1: Choose me

You’ve got to pick the animal for you. I say animal because despite being titled “Build A Bear”, we have many animals. Bears, cats, dogs, bunnies, chipmunks,  Smurfs and more!

Step 2: Hear Me

We have a sound station! Make your puppy bark or your purrfect kitty meow. Perhaps you would like a monkey who giggles or maybe a bunny that roars! Is it your birthday? Your new friend could sing you happy birthday. What about a heartbeat? Every time you press the heart, you can feel your furry friend’s heartbeat. (Sound optional)

Step number 3: Stuff me

“Alright! Would you like your bear to be soft and cuddly?”. . . I put the owners name on the animal’s ear tag, place their sound inside, and fill ‘em up! The guest gets to control the pedal as I hoist the empty animal over the filling tube. Once I think the animal is just how the guest had requested, I ask them to step off of the pedal and give their animal a “hug test”. If they want more or less stuffing I will change it to make it perfect for them, and then we move into the animals “heart ceremony”.  We have to warm the heart, give it a beat, make a super secret special wish, and put that heart inside the animal. Then I close its back seam.

Step number 4: Fluff me

We have an air bath station. After your animal has been stuffed and closed, make it clean for Step 5.

Step number 5: Dress Me

Build a bear has a massive collection of clothing for our bears. You can’t let your new friend go out into the world naked can you?! We’ve got everything from boxer shorts, to red glittery heels, hockey uniforms to prom dresses.. Basically there is A LOT to choose from. If you didn’t get everything you wanted this time, feel free to come back!  “Have you picked out all your clothes? I see you picked a dress! You better not forget her underwear!”

Step number 6: Name Me

You’ve got to create your friend’s birth certificate! What will you name your new friend? Fluffy? Snickerdoodle? Woof?  Honey? Beanstalk? Pancake? Loo loo? Bear? Peanut? Kicks? Ginger? Noel? Lancelot? Toaster?  Mr. Bluebeary? Tucker? Teddy? Wolfy McHowl? Paul? Jack? Monkey? Banana? Luna?  Boot? Elroy?

Step number 7: Take Me Home

Take Me Home is the last and final step in creating your furbulous new friend. You get a little cub condo for your bear to live in. TMH is also known as the payment stage. But we don’t like to talk about the financial losses, we just like to think of what you’re gaining!

As I began to grow and ‘mature’ I spent less and less time with my stuffed animals. I donated my old stuffies, and it was a harder task than expected. It was tough, but now I help kids/teens/adults/grandparents create their own new stuffed animals. Don’t feel out of place coming in to build a bear! People of all ages enjoy the process. Young kids love it because it’s exciting and tailored to their interests, teens love it because it lets them be a kid again, adults love it because we make them smile and have fun! Build a bear is so different from other retail stores. We love to have a good time and spread smiles and joy. If you’ve never build a bear, you’re missing out.  I really do love this job, though, my dream is to one day work with real animals, perhaps in Borneo rehabilitating orphaned orangutans, or in Thai-land with the elephants. But for now, you can find me in the crowded land of Metrotown.

Aly Lahoda, bear builder!

I was in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia, it was my fifth Australian city in 19 days, and by the evening, I would be lying my head in a new bed, in Taree, New South Wales.

Australia was my first international journey; my plane ticket was bought months prior on an impulse for adventure. I savor the thrill of the unknown, seeing new sights, hearing new words. Traveling is an opportunity for me to push my boundaries, and as a restless soul, I’m constantly searching for a new frontier.

There were three of us in the kitchen, myself, and two companions kindly seeing me off at Melbourne International Airport.

Daniel and I made coffee, recounting the stories from the night before, but breakfast was eaten in silence; we were all quite hungry, but I was also despondent. As I pulled apart my toast, I realized that while I was ready to seize my next adventure, I was not ready to say goodbye to the others – I wanted more.

My bag was carried out to the car, and a double and triple check for my passport and plane ticket were completed; I took one last glance at my Melbourne home, and shut the door. I anxiously sat in the passenger seat of the car, as we headed towards one of the two airports of the day. I took in the scenery and the company as my nerves amplified. We took a right turn into the Oxford Aviation Academy car park; with my pulse racing, we walked inside the front doors.

This little adventure was planned by Daniel. He signed us in, and while Andrew sat patiently, I began pacing, clenching and unclenching my fingers, forgetting to breathe. We walked outside, Daniel giving a tour. I matched his steps; I did not want to miss one moment. My heart racing, we entered the hanger, also known as a plane garage, to discover three small, two seater planes. I was begging to be told what the planes were constructed of, as we pushed the plane out of the hanger. Daniel, refusing to answer my question, opened the cockpit, laughing, as I requested not to be killed during this flight. I was thrilled. I was terrified. I was standing on the edge.

I sat in the front seat, Daniel in the seat behind. As a flight instructor, Daniel’s adventure was aerobatic maneuvers over Beaumaris Bay. Hovering over the ocean, along the coast of a beautiful city took my breath away, and so did the first maneuver.  I was hundreds of feet in the air, plummeting downwards to the ocean, then pulling up the nose to see nothing but sky. It was apparent that I was on an amazing adventure! The next maneuver had us flying upside down. I used all my bodily strength to hold myself down: my feet were braced against the floor, hands clutched around the metal frame above my head, back arched against the seat. We rolled the aircraft to an upright position, and back again. Once again, upside down, my muscles began to defy gravity; I hear Daniel through my headset, “it’s okay, just let go.” I uncurled my fingers, softened my muscles. My weight shifted forwards onto my harness, neck hanging loose, with no other physical contact to the aircraft. I was floating. As the plane pulled out of formation, my body simply slid back into my seated position.

I pushed my comfort zone by simply agreeing to aerobatic maneuvers. I cherish my instincts and my personal ability to push myself; however, I was always left wanting more. Pushing boundaries is important to me. Letting my guard down, and trusting those around me, is a barrier that I had yet to push. Taking my hands off that metal frame prompted me to let go and trust my dear friend, and he was able to push me off that edge. Trusting in others is a raw frontier for me, but as I adventure forward from here, so does my trust.

Back on the runway I climbed out the aircraft with a perpetual smile on my face. I was thrilled. I was terrified. I had stood on the edge, I was pushed, and I flew. Literally and figuratively.

The reason I say all of this is because, I actually, and for the first time in my life, love my job. It has been a year since I started my stint at a childcare program on the Westside of Vancouver and I have loved all of it. Now don’t get me wrong, there’s bad days, all the time. In fact as I’m writing this just as I’m coming down from one. I often find myself entirely drained and demolished after even four hours with the kids. During the summer I would see them for nine and a half hour days, four days a week. On that fourth day I spent a large portion of my time considering how much glue I would have to ingest before I would become sick, therefore leaving work early.

I’ve been called mean names by little kids. A little girl once told me I was only ‘half-handsome’, because I didn’t resemble her father who was (and still is from all reports) the most beautiful man in the world. I have had children scream at me, make completely unreasonable demands, refuse first aid when it was needed, and have avoided several traps set for me by malevolent little girls. There are many days I come home and question what appears to be a human desire to repopulate, reflecting on the sort of beasts that two people are capable of creating.

Despite all of this, I have never lost hope. There is something about children, a certain sense of confidence that I find completely bewildering. I’m not talking about false confidence, where they truly believe they know more about Pokémon than me (I’m finally willing to accept that). I’m talking about the way they see the world and the values they have. Most children, I would propose, do truly believe in sharing and being friendly. A lot of people would write this off as an affect of being innocent, something which is lost as they travel further and further throughout the school system (one of the truly most frightening environments in the world).

I will accept that some of this is related to innocence, but refused to accept all of it is. I have witnessed moments where children have given in the truest, most genuine way. I have watched friends defend each others’ namesake simply based on the fact that they are friends and that’s what a friend does. I’ve seen children fearlessly stand up to bullies. I have remained silent, as children have scribbled together beautiful secret pictures for me. I never act surprised, but I am always touched. All children are capable of giving in a way that holds no weight, with no expectations or private agendas. You can not only see this in their friendships or gifts, but in countless other ways.

It’s this practice, the art of giving with a full heart that I find breathtaking about children. I don’t see it everyday, by any means. Mostly I see ugly crafts and smell-bad farts. But when I do see it, when I see a child extend their hand to comfort or support their friend, I have a hard time holding back my smile. They have inspired me to give in the same manner. That is the challenge I am currently presenting myself in life. Like them, I’m working everyday at it. I’m letting myself open up, showing the affection and love I share for the people in my life. I want to not talk to my best friend for a day, and completely forget about it the next. I want to demand a hug from everyone when they leave, no matter how well I know them or not. Most importantly, I want to give from my heart, not for any benefit but because that’s what people do.

1.  I own more pieces of red clothing than anyone else

2.  That I have always done what was expected of me

3.  I get ridiculously scared and anxious when I disappoint people

In the past few months, one of the three facts about myself is no longer true. No, I still own a lot of red, don’t worry folks.

The beginning of my story should have been about my life in Edmonton, going to school, and doing what my family had expected of me. However, as I’m siting in a Starbucks, in Vancouver, far away from what I’ve Edmonton and Armstrong, I can only wonder what led me here?

I quickly learnt that Edmonton wasn’t the place for me, and over the summer decided that I would take a year off of school and move to another city. I came to Vancouver in hopes that I would find out what I really wanted, to find happiness and to break away from expectations that I no longer knew how to live up to.

Coming here wasn’t easy and I had to fight with myself, wondering if this is what I truly wanted. Yet the scariest part of my decision was telling my family that I wouldn’t go back to school. Telling them that I wanted to find my own happiness was the hardest conversation I’ve had.

Yet they supported me, knowing that this was what I needed.

Back tracking to September, and moving to Vancouver, I felt like my whole life was a huge mess and I had no idea what I was doing. I had all these plans and expectations but I didn’t know how to go about making them happen. I was jobless and living with my sister (who I haven’t lived with since I was eight years old) so we argued a lot. We are polar opposites. I didn’t think things would get better, and at 19 I had no idea where my life would be going. I was hopeless and unhappy.

It wasn’t until it was late September that it all clicked. I went out with a friend who liked to have coffee dates in the airport just to watch people’s expressions when their loved ones arrived from overseas. Their happiness radiated through the lobby, and us. Later that day I went to watch a friend play in his band. There was just something about the music that made the day complete. Happiness was the thread of the day and the songs. During their final song I realized the phrase that had my feet dancing: “It’s your life.” At that moment I couldn’t have been happier.

I now have a job, and I love it so much that I look forward to work each day. Kids do the craziest things. My favorite moments have been when a five-year-old told me, ” The more avocados you eat, the prettier you will be,” and when I caught two girls playing in the washroom saying that they were fairies making wishes in the toilet. It’s a rare day when I leave work not having laughed.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m no longer worried. I’m on this incredible journey having no clue what I am doing. All I know is that I’ve never felt so loved and supported by the people around me. So here’s what I know now: I’m young, I still wear too much red and most importantly I’m happy.

Eliot, Jenna (Ben’s GF), and I (Ben) moved up to Ucluelet on November 2nd 2011 to escape into a snails-pace lifestyle full of creativity, adventure and a whole load of free time, which has room for our new most enjoyable pastime, KNITTING! That’s right. Knitting.
So the reason we are able to be living here right now is due to the generosity of this infamous man Bill, who I mentioned earlier, and who is the father of two YES Camp veterans: Nora and Zina. Bill says the only reason he is letting three homeless hobbits stay in his house for a whole month is solely due to the reputation of the YES Camp! So let’s keep it up! Good reference for couch surfing! Bill refers to us infiltrating his house as ‘Occupy Ucluelet;’ however, there are very little politics involved, and our economy is pretty well nonexistent. Most of us are ‘employed’ (or as I like to say ‘sponsored’), by the government to live here. Yesterday we removed a large pile, of what looked like dirt, from Bill’s yard that he said had been there for 5 years. When we were halfway done he came out and said, “be still my beating heart” at the sight of it so I figured it was a meaningful job. The pile actually consisted of a mixture of rock, oyster shells and for the most part doggie doodoo. The doggie doodoo made for nice shoveling. We had to move it using wheel barrows and shovels to a large bin to be taken away by a dump truck. Luckily we hit a nice sunny day in the middle of days filled with 50mph winds and sideways rain, which from what we hear is what it is like most of the time! I digress…. What i’m trying to say is that it was not only nice to get some hard physical labor done in a time where physical labor is at a minimal, but also to have the great feeling of keeping the giving wheel spinning!
Another major reason why we are here is for the thrill of the ocean and the waves! But I don’t want to be referred to as a surf bum because that is only one small reason we are all here (and surfers are not bums). This is a time for us to get in touch with our creative side and also our daily spirit animal. I bring up this second part because as I write this Jenna is now reading my spirit animal for the day. We have come to really appreciate and listen to these spirit animal cards having it become a nightly ritual, as well as a spoonful of Nutella.
This is a wonderful time in my life, where life has slowed down to a crawl, and with no distraction I am able to do the things I have always wanted and also find other things I would have never imagined I could do! It’s crazy what you can accomplish with copious amounts of free time!

We are moving to Tofino on December 1st into a beautiful house of our own. From there more creativity will blossom, more free time will be filled and I will have more to say…. and so I will bid you adieu until next time! With more exciting adventures and stories of flourishing creative extravaganzas.