Holy Moses, I just found myself looking at a photo of one of Australia’s ex-prime ministers, and it took me a good 30 seconds to retrieve his name from the diabolically disorganised data filing system in my head. I have no idea who’s doing the sorting up there, but I think they’ve gone AWOL. I’ve always been paranoid that my brain cells are diminishing at a rapid pace, and it amuses me when my 95-year-old grandpa tells me stories of standing up to do something, before forgetting what he stood up to do. Geez grandpa, this is old news for me, I started doing that ten years ago.

I even went to my doctor about a year back to ask if he thought I might have an early onset of Alzheimer’s. He’s known me for a while, especially my hypochondriac behaviours, so he took my question seriously and ran me through 30 questions beginning with the date, where I was etc etc. He then moved onto remembering three different articles that I had to repeat at the end, writing something on a piece of paper and folding it in half (or something like that – of course I can’t exactly remember) and around 20 others basic tasks. At the end he told me I’d answered all the questions correctly and was the fastest person he’d known to do so.

But why then did I just stare at a photo of John Howard and take so long to remember his name? The better question may be, why was I staring at a photo of John Howard, but honestly I feel like my brain is behaving the way my computer does when the start up disk becomes full. I don’t even know exactly what this means, but programs start shutting down unexpectedly, documents take a while to open, I have to click on things twice just to make something happen. This stuff is happening in my head. I’m reacting more slowly, words take longer to formulate, and god help me if I have to remember someone’s name that I haven’t seen in a long time.

I attribute the slow performance to a couple of things:

1. There’s too much in there and I need to create space.
2. I haven’t been exercising my brain muscles enough so they’re losing their strength.

If it’s an issue of the first instance – how does one create more space? I don’t have a USB port by the side of my temple I can download from. And if I did, my filing system would probably be as bad as the one I keep for my regular documentation. Is there such thing as a mental reboot, a defrag for our brains that doesn’t cause us to lose important data?

If it’s an issue of the second instance I kind of get it. I haven’t utilised the tactical side of my brain for a while. I could literally go to work in a semiconscious state and still perform the majority of my duties to their desired capacity. But is this really making a difference? I have mastered the art of remembering the model, style and location of four different shoes at a time. The problem is sometimes when I come out to deliver them, I can’t for the life of me remember who they were for. I’ve literally stood on the floor with a perplexed expression for 15 seconds until the person grabbed the shoes themselves, or at least waved me over. I have terrible facial recognition. My most feared question in the world is, “have you guys met?” I always wait for the other person to respond, and if there’s any hint of deliberation, I always lean to the affirmative response.

My best friend Penny in Melbourne, who has known me since childhood, is so aware of my failing memory that she provides me with a full briefing before we catch up with old friends.

“Now you know Kass got married and had twins, Jules broke up with her boyfriend, and Ash and Jodie bought a house.”

These are people I’ve known for years, but I did at one point forget that Kass was pregnant, and if Jules hadn’t broken up with her boyfriend I wouldn’t have remembered his name. I know this doesn’t sound that drastic, but trust me it’s gotten bad. My worst nightmare would be attending a school reunion. Throw me into a tank of sharks any day. I’d be more out of depth making idle chitchat with absolute strangers I supposedly knew than taking my chances with those giant fish.

I’ve often been told the way to keep my brain active is by doing puzzles like Sudoku or crosswords. I know there’s also memory exercises one can adopt that use visual stimuli to enable one to recollect incredible amounts of data. But I always forget to do them, or at least that’s my excuse.

I’m certainly open to suggestions, but felt compelled to share my experience so that my 95-year-old grandpa and anyone else who stands up and forgets what they’re doing can put their mind at ease. It happens to the best of us!

Matching careers to lifestyles, not the other way around.

Something quite profound occurred to me today after having one of those ‘what are we doing with our lives’ conversations with two of my colleagues whilst paddle boarding after work. What was interesting to discover was that we’ve all decided on the kind of lifestyle we want to lead. Now we just need to find the career to match.

It’s taken me almost 33 years to realise I’ve approached this the other way around. Choosing a career or a job and then discovering the lifestyle my profession allowed me once I was in it (and that’s after spending years at university and thousands of dollars on a degree). Shouldn’t we be looking at this in reverse?

I read a great article by Mark Manson recently (who I discovered a year ago after Googling ‘the meaning of life’), called Screw Finding Your Passion. It pointed out some very obvious yet original ideas about determining what the hell we like doing, and at the same time not expecting that every aspect of our dream job will be enjoyable or satisfying. He makes a good point that our generation feels entitled to find meaning and satisfaction in absolutely everything we do, paid or not, and from my own personal experience I tend to agree. But I also believe that when it comes to choosing a career, we assess the merits of the work involved, without always considering the realities of the lifestyle attached.

No one ever told me back at my career day in high school that I could make a very decent living doing freelance event work. I didn’t even know planning events was considered a profession or what a freelancer actually was. But if someone had told me freelance event work would mean working 15 hour days plus weekends, a reduction in personal fitness, possible stress on relationships or no relationships at all, eating badly and burning out after 10 years in addition to the experience of travelling to multiple countries, dining with world leaders or carrying the Olympic Flame; I would have been able to make a better assessment of how long I could see the perks of that profession working for me.

It occurred to me today that kids should be studying lifestyles in school. Finding examples or case studies of the people who are living the kind of life they wish to lead, and then learning how they got there. I’m not just talking about the 50-year-old retired founder of something-or-other who owns a sailing boat, multiple houses and a small island in the Gulf of Mexico (unless you’re prepared to put in as much work as they did). I’m talking about the 50-year-old who lives a humble lifestyle working three days a week, is happily married, in impeccable shape, takes the kids on camping trips and sells beeswax candles at a local market every second Saturday during the summer.

What kind of lifestyle can one expect if they decide to become a civil rights lawyer, a surgeon or an architect? What sorts of lifestyles are on offer? Instead of dissecting mice in biology, we should be picking apart peoples lives and deciding which parts we want to mimic and which aspects to discard. Students should be given class time to search for their lifestyle idols (outside of their sporting or musical heroes). People who are living in the manner they want to live, to learn real lessons about how to make that reality theirs.

I can remember at a career session in year 10 sitting in front of an old desktop computer filling in a lengthy questionnaire about things I liked doing and what I was good at. The software then ran the answers through a basic algorithm and spat out my recommended career path. I’m pretty sure it suggested advertising, but I guess the test didn’t uncover that I despise consumerism, only shop at Thrift Stores and don’t own a TV. It’s funny though because I did end up making commercials after studying TV production at university, and I completed that degree because I’d auditioned for an acting school and got denied and figured the next best thing was working on the other side of the camera.

It’s amazing the career tangents I’ve found myself on since then, because either the offer was there, the pay was good, or I had the right skills for the job. Despite having one of the most exciting careers by the age of 30, it’s terrifying to think how many times I’ve avoided doing what I wanted to because it either seemed too hard, I was scared of success, or because something else distracted me. It’s also true that I didn’t really know what I wanted to do, and I needed to live and experience many things before I really figured it out. But I’ve also known for a long time that I wanted to work for myself, be able to travel for work or work while I travel, write, take videos and explore. None of the jobs I’ve worked up until this point have really steered me in that direction, and it’s only now that I’ve started working part time to gain a better understanding of what makes me happy, that I’ve had the time to spend doing those things that I love.

When I finished high school no one told me that, A: I’d be completely overwhelmed as though I’d just left my mother’s womb. B: I’d want to quit my university degree at least once. And C: I’d likely discover that my university degree had nothing to do with what I’d actually be doing. I guess I should have asked myself some very basic questions when deciding on a career path. Do I want a profession that is conducive to spending time with family, allows me to go surfing on weekends and maintain my organic vegetable garden? Or do I want a job that’s going to take me to a new country every 30 days, allowing me to fly business class and eat the free food in the airport lounges? Most of us want both; the later option when we’re young and single and have nothing tying us down, and the former option when we get a little older and start thinking about having a family. So shouldn’t we be preparing for both? If people knew before jumping into a profession that the burn out rate is 90% after 10 years, they could at least prepare for this before finding themselves worn out and unskilled at the age of 40.

I believe the next generation could make better-informed choices if they focus more on career compatibility with the lifestyles they desire. For example, if they want to become a host on a daytime breakfast show they should consider:

• What time they’re waking up every day.
• How it’s potentially going to affect their partner, children and their health.
• If they have a good run, how many years they can actually expect to be working in that role.
• And what the potential career choices are afterwards.

If that lifestyle doesn’t match what they’re after, then they may need to consider other options. If we look at it from the other perspective, what was the 50-year-old who went camping with their kids or the person who has time to go surfing on the weekends doing for a living? And does that person make the funds to go on as many trips a year as they envisaged, or live in the kind of house and community they desire? There are many facets to consider.

Wouldn’t you have loved school more if part of the curriculum allowed you time to discover a lifestyle that appealed to you? Where you could study peoples lives and learn from their success and failures before heading down that path yourself? I don’t know about you, but I’d be happy to go back to that school any day!

Reading a recent comment from Keen Hiker on my blog this evening made me realise it’s been at least a month since I’ve thought too deeply about my greater purpose in life. No matter how much I deliberate on this topic, I’m still absolutely fascinated by the concept that life can be seen as completely frivolous or full of meaning, simply by the way we perceive it. It struck up some kind of strange epiphany as I started getting ready for bed, when I realised that maybe I’ve been looking at it all wrong. I’ve had a very singular focus on life’s purpose, assuming that everyone as individuals should have their own purpose for being alive. But perhaps that isn’t the case. Perhaps our purpose stems from working together as a race, to achieve something well beyond the realms of what a single human can achieve? I’m just throwing ideas out there, and maybe they’ve been expressed a gazillion times before, but I’ve never thought about it in this way.

Does an ant operating on instinct understand its greater purpose? Does any creature on this planet understand why they’re here and what they’re meant to achieve? Why should humans be any different? Despite our intelligence, we don’t seem to have a concrete answer. But these days we operate less on instinct, and more on what we’re taught to think and do. We operate within rules and limitations, suppressing our instincts, making choices based on opinions and the experience of those around us. If we did operate on instinct, what would we all be doing? Creating anarchy and killing one another to stay alive? Or would we have a clearer picture on what to achieve, doing whatever it is to live a prosperous and happy life?

Perhaps this is where indecision stems from. Being unable to distinguish between what we really want and what we think we should have. The world has transformed and developed so much that there’s simply so many options before us. And what comes with options? Indecision. And what comes with indecision? Inaction. Because it’s safer not to make any decisions rather than making the wrong ones, right? Maybe it would help if we understood what to base our decisions on.

I don’t feel as though school really prepared me for the ‘real world’, or that learning algebra, about World War II or the chemical properties of hydrogen really helped me answer what I want to do with my life. No teacher stood at the front of the classroom with a diagram explaining what we should strive to accomplish, providing a breakdown of options on how best to achieve this. They simply gave me a base level understanding of enough information to satisfactorily function within society. They exposed me to enough activities to inspire me to keep living, and then wiped their hands clean leaving the rest up to me. I understand that choosing what to do in life may fall within the category of a ‘First World Problem’, alongside cars breaking down, losing iPhones or buying decaf coffee by mistake. But for me it’s a very legitimate question, and one I don’t think we’re encouraged to find answers to, while studying to become doctors, lawyers or electricians.

Touching again on my earlier concept of a collaborative purpose, if there was a coordinated effort across the planet in which everyone played a part in the bigger picture, how would it look? Like a giant anthill covering the globe with humans scurrying all over the place, working towards a common goal? Would we eradicate hunger, live less introspectively and focus on the good of each other? Or would we simply live to feed the Queen, while trying our best not to squash one another?

There doesn’t seem to be a solid answer to the greater purpose of human existence, nor anyone judging us on our decisions (depending on what you believe). So it’s a pretty sweet deal really. We’re all off the hook! Free to do whatever we choose, limited only by what we decide. So why aren’t we all out there doing the things that we love? Is it because we don’t know what we want, or because we’re too busy complaining about the lack of time we have because of work, or the fact we can’t afford to get away because of that giant mortgage looming over our heads?

I guess it helps to be reminded that despite what our purpose is, we’re all in control of our destiny. If you don’t like your job, change it. If you can’t afford the lifestyle you’ve chosen, adapt. If your friends don’t have the same interests as you, find new ones that do. It took me a long time to learn (and it’s an ongoing process) how to drill into the core of what makes me happy, trust in my instincts and actually follow them. It’s taken me even longer to realise that when my objectives benefit others in some way, I live a much more meaningful and enjoyable existence. And when we enjoy the life we’re living, it’s a lot easier to focus on making positive contributions to other people’s lives.

So yes, once again I guess it all comes back to striving for happiness. And whether we like it or not, happiness is to a large extent a choice. Despite all the decisions that may cloud our judgement, throw us on a detour or completely off the rails, we need to think back to the basic principles of what makes us happy, and steer those elusive reins back in that direction.

Out of all the lessons I learned during my recent two-day white-water kayaking adventure on the Cheakamus River in Squamish, BC; the power of commitment proved the most effective.

Paddling on white-water is like living life in fast motion. You don’t have the luxury of time for decisions or chances to renege. You are powered by reactions, to the water and the obstacles around you. You must choose your direction and commit to it; then paddle to get there despite what happens in-between. Anything less and you’ll end up hitting the rocks, floundering in the waves or getting trapped beneath the trees.

To successfully steer into a narrow eddy or surf a challenging wave, you need commitment. If you give it a half-hearted effort you’re bound to miss or be swept away with the current. But if you’re committed to the direction you want to go and keep your eye on the prize, even if you overshoot or stray by a fraction, strength and determination will get you there.

This idea of commitment can obviously be applied to all things in life, but I never realised just how necessary it was until I witnessed its immediate consequence on the water first hand during the field course.

Video:

Music: The Temper Trap, Sweet Disposition

I believe what got me across the border to Canada on the PCT was a commitment from the very beginning to finish the trail; no matter what the circumstances or conditions, providing my body could propel me there.

Strength of mind is more powerful than muscle, and a long distance hike like the PCT is certainly not just about physical endurance. I think any thru-hiker would agree that at least half the challenge is mental. Mood alone can determine your energy levels that day. It’s a lot easier to hike 30 miles jacked up on serotonin than it is when you’re feeling down.

I’d like to say I’m a person who follows through on commitments, but I also think very carefully about what I commit to first. When I tell someone I’m going to do something, it means I’m 100% committed to doing so, unless powers out of my control prevent me.

Someone at the store today asked me what’s next after the PCT. I have asked myself this question numerous times, and there are countless options I wish to explore. I have some ideas in mind, but I won’t be sharing them until I’m 100% committed! 😉

In the short term I’m continuing to explore the trails and waterways of BC, having recently hiked up to Black Tusk and Panorama Ridge near Lake Garibaldi. Next month I’m hiking the West Coast Trail, my first real multiday hike since the Camino. The trail is only a meagre 75kms (47 miles), but it’s said to be demanding, and I believe my biggest challenge will be learning to compromise. I have become incredibly used to solo travel, my own habits, routines and making my own decisions. I’m doing this hike together with my friend Steve, who has been my hiking and camping companion throughout the summer. We share a passion for the outdoors, equal fitness levels, similar hiking pace, and both love to analyse life, people’s behaviours and the complexity of the world; ensuring we’re never short of conversation. But it will be interesting to see how two incredibly independent, self sufficient and opinionated people (when it comes to wilderness travel at least), team up over a period of four or five days.

Thankfully we are both lovers of logistics and documentation, so I’m looking forward to sharing my gear list, food menu, and tips for hiking the trail once the adventure is over. It’s one of the most expensive trails to hike in Canada (or anywhere I’ve ever known) – with permits alone costing over $100, not to mention the cost of ferries, the bus back to the start point, and getting over to Vancouver Island. But I guess it’s something you only ever do once.

I should also mention that I’m no longer required to move house, which I somewhat attribute to the power of manifesting reality. Up until the end of July, I truly believed that I wouldn’t need to move out of the room I was subletting. There was no evidence, suggestion or reason why this would be the case; and although I still wanted to believe it, I eventually gave up and secured another room. But just recently the roommate decided he was not going to return, which means that less than two weeks before the move, I’m now in exactly the position I had hoped to be in. In some respects I’m not that surprised, as I’d almost expected it to pan out this way. I did feel guilty cancelling on the room I’d secured, but thankfully because the rental market in Vancouver is so saturated, it took the woman less than a day to find someone else, so she kindly offered me back my deposit.

In addition to my lessons on commitment this week, I have also recently been reminded that positivity breeds positivity, and that positive thinking can create endless possibilities.

It’s like the summer never wants to end in Vancouver this year, providing endless opportunities to be outside exploring nature. After four months in this city my life has fallen into a comfortable rhythm of work and adventure interspersed with short moments of downtime; and I’m pleased to report that the work/life balance I’ve been able to achieve is definitely leaning more heavily towards life as opposed to work. The various chapters of my almost 33-year-old existence have introduced me to a wide variety of lifestyles, cultures and routines; and although all have had their merits, they’ve allowed me to appreciate just how fortunate I am to be living this one right now.

I haven’t felt this grounded since hiking the trail, enjoying the simple pleasures life has to offer, without all the bells and whistles a healthy income allows. It’s helped me to realise how easy it is to overcomplicate things, reminded me that less is more, and shown me that the simplicity of living from a backpack can be achieved off trail too.

I still can’t figure out what the actual meaning or purpose to this life is, what my ultimate objective should be, what I’m destined to achieve, or why I’ve been given the opportunity to roam this magical planet. But maybe that’s just it; I’ve been given the opportunity to roam this magical planet, maybe I’m doing exactly what I’m meant to be.

During a three-day sea-kayaking trip this week, I realised that activities like these can be incorporated into a regular lifestyle. I don’t need to take big chunks of time off for epic adventures every two years; I can simple have shorter adventures more frequently. Upon this realisation, I said to one of my colleagues from work, “Wow, I want to live like this!” – to which he responded, “You are!” I guess I’ve been so used to living in transition mode, ready to move onto what’s next, that I sometimes dismiss what I’m doing in the present. I feel like I’ve been in research mode, attempting to discover what life I actually want to lead; without realising the clock started ticking many years ago, and the present is where it’s all at.

When I look back at the last ten years, the timeline of my journey seems to lack continuity. To me it’s like reading a book of short stories. Every time I reach the end of a chapter I begin a new one, as opposed to continuing on with the same theme. My last three years have been especially disjointed; a collection of two, four, or six month experiences, where I seem to have gone back to square one at the end of each. But for the first time in a long while, I’m not thinking about where I’m moving to next or what my next job will be. I’m focussing on the continuation of life, laying foundations, joining clubs, adopting routines and cultivating friendships, without that familiar restless feeling nipping at my toes. It probably helps that I need to remain in Canada to renew my residency, reducing my ability and desire to up and go whenever I choose. And my mood is certainly aided by the flawless weather we’ve been having. But it’s also nice to feel that foreign sense of belonging I rarely experience during my short-term stints, because like any good thing worth waiting for, it takes a bit of time.

I’d been saving up so many things to write over this last month, but when I put pen to paper this morning, this stream of ramblings simply spilled out. What I originally wanted to share was the video of my sea-kayaking adventure on Howe Sound along the Sea to Sky Marine Trail this week.

Music: Mr Probz – Waves (Robin Schulz Radio Edit)

Not only were we in the middle of the Perseid meteor showers, I also experienced bioluminescence for the first time. For those who have never had the opportunity to witness the astounding spectacle, I have included a stock image below because I wasn’t able to capture the magic on my own camera. Three of us kayaked along the sound at midnight, with the disturbance of our paddles through the water creating an electric glow like sparks of electricity igniting just under the surface. The stray droplets were falling like fairy dust onto our shoulders, and as the power of the luminance increased as the night became darker; we dove into the water creating human silhouettes of light through the dark blanket of ocean. It was one of the most phenomenal, spectacular and beautiful visual experiences I think I’ve ever seen. No words or pictures could ever do it justice, but my eyes will hold onto those memories forever.

I’m back at my Phở restaurant. Needed time to think and reflect. Life has been moving at a fast pace recently and I have such a jumble of thoughts running through my head I’m attempting to obtain some clarity.

For the first time in my life I’m not sleeping well due to useless repetitious thoughts about interactions at work, the fact I have to move house, planning my next short term adventure, and then general musings about life in Canada, how long I want to stay, and what on earth the future has in store.

Today I woke up at 5:45am with two more hours to sleep, yet despite the fact I was so tired my head actually hurt, my busy mind went wandering for almost two hours before I plugged my headphones in and tried some guided meditation. I’m on my 22nd day straight of Headspace, an app that talks me through a 10 minute meditation-style chill out. Only today it ran over 10 minutes, maybe because I changed the settings or progressed to a new level; and I lost my shit in a completely non-Zen fashion. I stared at the screen of my phone angrily watching the seconds tick past, before ripping my headphones out and giving up altogether. It was absolutely ridiculous how irate I was, considering my app had only forced me to sit still for probably another 5-10 minutes. That event basically set the tone for the rest of the day, although I was surprisingly relaxed and jovial during my 8-hour shift at the store.

I had to laugh the other day when a member came in who had read part of my blog and told me I was lying when I said I actually enjoyed work. “No you don’t,” he corrected me. “I read your blog.” I’m not just saying this because I know people from work ARE now reading my posts, but I’ve actually grown incredibly accustomed to the unusual environment; living out the laid back, non-conformist, cap wearing, gear junkie I never thought I’d be. No wonder I feel like learning to surf and living by the sea. Soon I’ll be tree planting or dog walking or owning a stall at a farmers market. Who knows what great things the future has in store!

I don’t actually have a care in the world at the moment. I’m living the exact lifestyle I’ve only dreamed about before, surviving on so little, and feeling almost as free and close to nature as I did on the trail. But over the last few days I could feel my internal storm clouds brewing. I’m either incredibly susceptible to menopausal mood swings, or I just get down on life every so often. Or I’m letting the fact that I REALLY don’t want to move house get in the way of my happiness.

I’ve literally found the greatest living situation of all time – my roommates, the house, the location and the price. It’s beyond perfect, but as I only agreed to sublet, I’m soon again to be homeless, and so the tedium of room hunting has been taking up the better part of my spare time. What I’ve actually found most interesting is how people convey the kind of housemate they are in a short concise email. I’m obviously not doing so well, because out of the 30+ emails I’ve sent, I’ve only received three responses. One meeting was via Skype, and after 30 minutes of talking and agreeing to meet face-to-face the following day, the girl emailed me the next morning to say she Skyped with someone afterwards and already made her decision. That was a lovely blow to my ego; what on earth was the other person like?

In reality, despite what I say in my emails, I do keep to myself a lot at home. I’m rarely ever there, and when I am at home I’m mostly on my computer in my room. I’m certainly not antisocial, but I don’t often seek out long-winded conversations or sit in front of the television. Home is a place to get chores and projects done, while the rest of the time is dedicated to sleep. So if that’s your cup of tea and you live in central Vancouver, let me know!

I’d somehow convinced myself I wouldn’t have to move over the last few months, until I recently confirmed that the person I’m subletting from is actually coming back. I still have a sprinkling of denial over the reality, but am forcing myself to send emails and view places, against every impulse of not wanting to do so. I’ve gone from moving every few months without a fleeting question, to wanting to stay smack bang where I am. And if I do need to move, I still want to remain in the same neighbourhood. I’ve surprised myself by how attached I’ve become to my low priced supermarket within walking distance, the cemetery where I take my evening walks, my favourite coffee shop down a few blocks, and of course my beloved Phở joint.

Becoming attached to things is not something I’ve recently been accustomed to. I get asked at work all the time if I miss home, which I inevitably do. Especially this week as my entire family are spending two days at the snow, and I’m missing snowball fights with my niece and nephew. But I try not to dwell on the idea of missing things too much to avoid the notion preventing me from enjoying what I’m doing. Thankfully my mother continues to send me motivational cards each month, like the one I received today which says “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you’ve imagined,” – a quote from Henry David Thoreau (an American author, poet, philosopher etc from the 1800’s Wikipedia tells me). Her cards are always incredibly fitting, and are the only post I receive outside of my monthly health care invoice, which is abominably high considering my monthly earnings.

I’ve been delving into how my fellow colleagues survive on their wages recently, and it seems that sharing a house with up to 11 roommates is a conceivable option. Some have partners who earn more than they do, many have second jobs, but most work at least 30+ hours where I’m balancing an average of around 27. At least I’m answering the question, well and truly, that money doesn’t bring you happiness; because I’m as happy as I was on the trail with nothing – minus the heavy pack, blisters, bland food and 10 daily hours of steady walking. The obvious key to my blissful mood that I can easily identify is my simplified lifestyle, lots of outdoor activity, a good community of people and an exceptional work/life balance. It doesn’t hurt that Vancouver is also experiencing one of its greatest summers yet. Talk to me in the fall when the rain starts and the cold weather begins, I may be singing a slightly different tune.

Amidst the smoky haze of the multiple wildfires burning across British Columbia at the moment, I paddled with seven colleagues to Anvil Island yesterday, crossing Howe Sound from Porteau Cove Provincial Park to climb Leading Peak (754m). Here’s a quick snapshot…

Video:

Music: Come away to the water, Maroon 5

After a 10km paddle, 4 hours of hiking, and 8kms of riding to the pick up point and back, I felt the same level of exhaustion I used to feel every day on the trail. But in contrast to the serenity of yesterday, today I also hit the Cheakamus River in Squamish for another whitewater adventure, successfully landing my second ever seal launch. (I tipped on the first attempt!)

Video:

My enthusiasm for paddling in general has enhanced my fervour for life, giving me the same confidence in ability I used to feel on the trail – the ability to live outside of my comfort zone.

On the way to the river this morning, I was talking to my colleague about the satisfaction I get from doing something that pushes me beyond my comfort level, making me sick to the stomach with nerves even thinking about it. When I was younger the thought of going to school did this for me, but now whitewater kayaking is the same. After launching into the river off that rock however, which looked about 10 feet higher from where I was sat, I felt invincible. I’ve come a long way from that shy school girl, and now have some understanding of why thrill seekers love nothing more than to live on the edge. It may be an addiction, but it certainly adds another dimension to life!

There’s no doubt that physical activity and fitness stimulate the brain and improve our wellbeing on many levels. Life for me is always about finding a new challenge, something to sink my teeth into and push myself beyond the limits of my comfort. Generally I enjoy the things I’m good at, usually because I can do them comfortably, and because I don’t have to invest time or effort into learning new skills. But the greatest satisfaction always seems to come from pushing my boundaries, and putting my skills to the test by trying new things.

There’s definitely a reason I chose to try my hand at retail in an outdoor adventure store, because it represents the kind of activities I want to be doing myself. The part of my brain who carefully plans the direction of my life knew exactly where this path was leading, while the flippant, reactive, ‘everything has to be rosy all the time’ part, freaked out the moment monotony crept onto the scene. But over the last two weeks I took on the well-guided advice from my followers that happen to know exactly what is good for me. Get out and hike they said; which is exactly what I did. I dusted the cobwebs from my pack, filled it with gear, and walked with a friend to Garibaldi Lake 9km off the beaten track to one of the most stunning settings in the world. That was step one. My next challenge was to push my boundaries, which can be difficult having superseded my own standards by hiking the PCT right off the bat. But life ain’t all about long distance hiking, and I can tell you there’s much enjoyment to be found in shorter multi day excursions, overnight trips and day hiking.

A lovely young woman came into the store today and approached me to admit she was having a star struck moment because she follows my blog and has watched all of my videos (which is how she recognised my voice in the first place). I was left flattered and speechless, with that vague celebrity sensation I experienced  when visiting the school children at Leona Valley, Del Sur and Anaverde Hills School in Southern California, post PCT hike. Of course I blushed exponentially with embarrassment and laughed throughout the entire experience, but what she said before she left stuck with me the entire day. She told me, “You’re so inspiring.”

This is a much easier statement to accept when you’re walking 2,650 miles across the length of the United States. But she didn’t say, ‘you were inspiring’, or ‘that hike you did two years ago was pretty cool’. She said ‘you’re inspiring’, and it definitely shifted my thinking. If I had to write down just one goal I hope to achieve in life, to be filed away in some universal volt alongside my hopes, dreams, and darkest secrets; it would be to inspire another human being. My goal used to be to impress my parents, because I often gauged my success on how proud they were of what I was doing. But although I still strive for my parent’s pride in the things I do, I now have to work even harder to impress myself.

Because of that interaction today, I’ve chosen to open up my world again to share my most recent experience, which I’m proud to say did push my boundaries in many ways. I’ve begun taking advantage of the field courses, discounted club memberships and the storeroom full of gear I’m able to rent at work, and have dived head first into the sport of kayaking, both on whitewater and on the sea. I made the short montage below of my first whitewater experience to share with the team I paddled with, but hopefully it will have the added benefit of inspiring the rest of you!

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I believe the hardest part of starting or exploring a new hobby is finding a way into it, and the only way I’ve figured out how to do this is to surround myself with people who practise that activity. The doing part seems easier than figuring out how to get there. Like before I began the PCT, I remember my greatest concern was simply how to get to the trail. Once I was there, I knew all I had to do was hike, and once Don and Donna relieved me of that anxiety, it was up to me to continue walking.

Fortunately I’m surrounded by people who mountain bike, climb, kayak, hike, canoe, surf, swim, camp, and have a passion for the outdoors, every single day. It’s taken me a while to find my groove; but now that the doors are opening, it’s up to me to pick the ones I want to walk through.