Long Weekend Ramblings

Sometimes life changes.  We sway in the breeze and either try to change with it or rail against it, battling to forge our own fate.  We either follow the flow of the tides or battle against it.  There have been times in life when I have done both.  For the most part, I am an easy going individual who will rather work with the ebbs and flows of life instead of smashing my head against the wall and trying to instil my own vision of what will happen.

That could be a down side to how I ride the rollercoaster of life.  Maybe I am too laid back and too 'go with the flow' for my own good.  I don't know.  I am not reflective enough to make good sense of that.  I do know there have been times where battling for something was worth it, and times when it was a waste of energy.  My bloodstained knuckles weary and tired from attempting to alter my life, and the dust built up on my feet from staying in place for too long while I tried to change the unchangeable.

About half a year ago, I was faced with the very difficult decision of either moving or staying where I was.  There were benefits to both, and I had to try and make up my mind as to what was in my best interest.  What could I accept for the rest of my life, and what I could not.

I like to think that I don't get frozen for too long by such decisions.  I also pretend that I have a logical and fact driven mind that leads me on through the mysteries of life.  When it was time to decide whether to stay in the town I was living in or if it was time for a change my wife and I were able to come to the decision within the matter of a few days.  We didn't rush it, and really looked at a lot of deciding factors to come to our conclusion before the two of us decided that a change was needed, and living in beautiful cottage country Ontario would be the best thing for us in the long term.

A lot of this came down to my mental health issues.  I am a bit of a mess when it comes to that.  It has been over three years since I have been able to hold down a job, and doctors are still trying to find the right medications for me to be on.  On top of my stress and anxiety, I also have a bit of agoraphobia mixed in there.  Moving to a smaller town with a more relaxed pace of life is something that was definitely a positive for my health struggles.  However, it came at quite a cost.

Because of this, I can no longer see movies in the theatre when they come out.  Oh, poor Scott and his first world problems, you may be thinking.  You are right.  There is not a lot that can really be said about that other than it is easily something that I could live without compared to what other people have to go through across the globe.

The problem is that there are few outlets and releases for me and my head full of problems.  Viewing and reviewing movies is one of them.  It keeps me focused and disciplined on something and forced me out of the house at least a few times a week to keep up with The Movie Breakdown podcast that I co-host.  It was logical, and it was creative.  Now, I should have been better at creating written reviews and getting them posted on this damned blog, but that is a story for another time.  It has not always been easy for me to put myself out there in written form.  It is a task that I have battled with and often lost.

That's the real rub.  Writing is something that I want to get into, and my fears have long kept me from really acting on it.  I have a number of manuscripts, but have only really tried to push one of them.  I finished one a few months ago, but have I done anything to get an agent for it?  Nope.  It has sat still and remains locked away on my computer.

I have gotten side tracked.  The point is that I miss watching new releases and reviewing them with my podcast co-host Christopher Spicer.  It was an experience that kept me from getting locked away in my own world and forced me out of my boundaries into different places.  Because of the move, I had to see that dream fade away and resign myself to a much meeker movie viewing life.  It has left me feeling as though I am unable to properly comment on relevant cinema, pulling me out of the epicentre and pushing me to the outlying areas.

In the face of it, I like to think that I have still made the right decision.  It was a challenge to just leave the apartment when living in a city, and it is much easier to get out now, so that is a positive change.  I just wish that I could have it all.  That I didn't have to sacrifice one thing for another.  I am not going to ramble on about how life isn't fair and I have been dealt a bad hand.  I have a great life. I have a loving wife, a great family, and wonderful friends.  I also have a cat that rocks.

With all that I have going for me, I can't help but stare into that hole of what I am missing and recognize the impact that it had on me while I had it.  There still is the podcast, but I feel like a swollen ankle that cannot fit into a running shoe because of my inability to speak into the latest and most relevant works.  Because of the move, I have made the podcast a harder sell because of the lack of insight that I can provide.

So, what is more powerful in life?  Being (or having the hope of being) stable, or having those outlets that define who you are and provide you with release and energy?  Because the journey of the move is still relatively new, it is hard to tell.  I am probably boring you with the thoughts that are spilling out on the page right now.  Does it really matter?  Hell yes, it does.

Transforming from one thing into another may be a beautiful process, but it can also be a brutal one.  A cocoon is not a pretty sight.  It is rather grotesque, actually.  It bears no similarities to what is inside, and what is happening.  It looks like something that should be discarded and left to rot.  I am not saying that I am some sort of butterfly awaiting to be hatched, but I am indeed in some sort of prolonged transformation stage.  Instead of feeling like it is a step forward, it amounts to the endless surge of purgatory, being stuck in an in between stage that has no end in sight.

It is in this purgatory that I feel like I sit, unable to see what is coming up and whether or not it was all worth it.  Is it the destination that matters, or the journey?  Different people will say different things.  All I know is that my path was set, and there is no going back on it.  What it has created is what I have to deal with, and all I can do is hope that it leads to something that was more valuable and cherished than what I left.